


Red Queen

by BethNottingham



Series: Red Queen [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: (In My Not At All Humble Opinion), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background delena, Basically TVD if Caroline was the main character, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, F/M, How do I tag this thing?, IMNAAHO, In other words a more compelling story, Julie Plec can fight me, Klaroline, Klaroline-centric, One small change is like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains, Seriously if you've read it and want to suggest some tags please please do so, Slow Burn, and got to have the kind of agency they give Elena, magic has RULES goddammit, once you make em you gotta follow em, the vampire diaries season 4 episode 9 oh come all ye faithful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 117,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethNottingham/pseuds/BethNottingham
Summary: Red Queen Season I: When Caroline intervenes to prevent the hybrid massacre, she sets in motion a chain of events that will change things forever, between her and Tyler, her and Klaus, and even her own fate. Klaroline. Cross-posted from fanfiction.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Jeremy Gilbert, Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson, Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore
Series: Red Queen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584871
Comments: 16
Kudos: 220





	1. Portrait of a Frozen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, folks!
> 
> So, here's the deal: I love Caroline. She's one of my all-time favorite characters and she was what kept me watching TVD long after the show had jumped the shark.
> 
> And one thing I noticed about her, throughout the show, is that she doesn't appear to be quite… normal. She's the only human character that a vampire can communicate with from a long range (Damon in season 1, an yes, I know, that's one of those plot elements that they just cut out in later seasons, but still, I'll happily use it as evidence). She's stronger than the average vampire—she kicks Damon's ass repeatedly, Mason Lockwood, who was stronger than Stefan, multiple tomb vampires at once, who were all substantially older than she is—she never actually loses a fight when her opponent doesn't take her by surprise. She's also pretty smart. None of the characters ever seem to attend school, yet she passes everything, tutors others… And she comes up with ideas… There's just something really special about her.
> 
> Anyhow, I'm exploiting that—not by much more than the show allowed, really. At the end of the episode, she said she felt guilty over what they were doing to Klaus. Well, if she thought what they were doing was going to potentially be worse, then I think she might've tried to stop it. And so, here we have the beginning of a diverging plotline. Sometimes the story will differ radically from the show, and sometimes it will follow closely, but with a more Klaroline focus. (Basically, if Caroline were the main character rather than Elena).
> 
> As for the title! What is Red Queen, anyway? So glad you asked! It has a three-fold meaning. 
> 
> 1\. In Season 5, Caroline defines the term as referring to the relationship between predator and prey. "The rabbit runs faster than the fox because the fox is chasing its dinner—the rabbit is running for its life." That would be Caroline herself—she had everything going against her from the day she turned, but somehow she has flourished. 
> 
> 2\. If Klaus is the big, bad wolf, then Caroline would be Red Riding Hood. 
> 
> But! 3. Since Klaus is the king, that makes Caroline the queen. And we all know that's her personality anyway. Ergo, I present to you, Red Queen.
> 
> In moving this fic over to AO3, I've discovered that I'm not as good at tagging things as I'd like, so if anyone would like to suggest some useful tags, please let me know!

"Caroline? Oh my god…"

It took a minute for Caroline to get her brain back online. Being dead on a public restroom floor had that effect on a person. The first thing she remembered was snow. A snowflake… Klaus… she'd insisted that they didn't have a "thing," and his expression had told her as plainly as words that he knew otherwise. But why was she thinking about that while April Young screamed in terror—oh. Right. The werewolf bitch had taken her by surprise and snapped her neck… and April had found her dead body.

Caroline's hand slapped against the door before April could open it. Her trachea finished healing from its abuse at the exact right moment, and her voice came out in a satisfyingly crisp snap. "Forget everything you saw," she instructed, pupils widening as she spoke. "You are Miss Mystic Falls—now get back out there and attend to your duties."

"Okay," April responded, and bumbled back out the door. Caroline rubbed her neck and made a mental note to murder Hayley the next chance she got. A werewolf during the New Moon cycle was hardly stronger than a human, but anyone could snap a girl's neck with the element of surprise on their side. Although, granted, Caroline had been a little preoccupied with the Damon and Elena drama… Making another mental note to be more aware of her surroundings, she took a deep breath and yanked the bathroom door open.

"Caroline," Matt exclaimed when he saw her. "There you are, I've been looking all over for you."

An irritable comment about April died on Caroline's lips when she remembered Hayley, who seemed to have her own agenda. Maybe now was not the time.

"Did something happen?" she asked.

"I just can't get a hold of anyone," Matt responded. "Stefan's not answering his phone, Elena's completely off the grid…" Irritation surged up Caroline's spine, and she had to fight to suppress it.

"Adrian's leading Klaus to the old Lockwood Cellar right now," Matt added in a low voice, and the irritation turned to a jolt of fear. The plan hinged on Hayley, and Hayley was somehow messing with them, she knew it. Otherwise, why would she have attacked her? Especially when she had just announced that the new plan would work. But why would she want to betray the hybrids? She couldn't _possibly_ have any loyalties to Klaus; she hated him. So then, why?

Suddenly, a memory struck, and Caroline's knees went weak. Kim, while shattering her arm and hand repeatedly back when she'd been trying to take over from Tyler, had gloated about the kinds of things she would do to her if he didn't submit.

She'd also talked about a plan for dealing with Klaus—her plan, that Tyler had rejected.

She'd wanted to stuff a grenade in his stomach, and then put the bits of him into a small safe. Without enough space to re-grow in the directions it was supposed to, his body would mutilate and he wouldn't regain enough strength or leverage to break out. Tyler had vetoed that plan for two reasons. The first, the one that the rest of the pack had listened too, was that there was no way of guaranteeing how long Klaus would remain incapacitated.

The second reason, which only Caroline and Hayley were privy too, was that despite everything that Klaus had done to all of them, Tyler had felt that this was crossing a line. They weren't the bad guys. They were just people who wanted their freedom. It was only today that she'd learned that that was why he'd volunteered to sacrifice his own body for the somewhat less graphic plan.

But Hayley, sitting in the background, swirling her drink in the Lockwoods' ornate glass, had rolled her eyes and scoffed quietly. Now that Caroline knew everything, she realized that Hayley must have felt that Tyler was being an insufferable martyr.

She must have wanted them to have to resort to Kim's plan.

A part of Caroline—the more vampiric part—reminded her that, really, Klaus deserved anything that he got at the hands of his former victims. But that part of her was quickly silenced by the much louder, stronger, kinder part of her that she'd worked very hard to develop since the week of her transition, when no one had expected her to make it to the next Friday.

' _When_ did this kind of think become _okay_?' she thought fiercely, the ice in her stomach replaced by molten anger. 'At what point do _any_ of us have the right to _do_ these kinds of things to each other?'

She was moving, flashing out of the Grill and down the street in a blur of speed before her thoughts could fully form into a definite course of action. If the plan failed—possible—then the hybrids would not see another sunrise. Mass-murder was _never_ okay. If the plan succeeded—also possible—then the hybrids would be even greater monsters than they were already becoming. Kim would gain power, Tyler would become at best the odd man out, at worst a target. And Klaus…

That scenario was also _not okay_.

So Caroline ran.

It didn't matter how old or strong or invulnerable a creature was; if you caught it by surprise and struck its weak points, it _would go down_. She'd proved that many times over in her brief time as a vampire. She's also just had it used against her.

Klaus was immortal, invincible, and had a thousand years of experience on her, but a broken neck would incapacitate him just like anyone else. Then if she paid attention, maybe she could re-break it each time he healed until the hybrids had time to put some distance between themselves and Mystic Falls. After that… she didn't have a plan after that. She was acting on instinct and adrenaline and panic all mixed together, and that didn't make for the clearest head. This was quite probably suicide, unless he liked her a lot more than she believed. Perhaps this wasn't the day to have told him that they didn't have a "thing…"

But she couldn't let this end as messily as it was going too if the hybrids were allowed to settle this amongst themselves. She had to save Tyler. She had to save the pack.

She had to save Klaus.

She sped up, breath ragged in her throat, praying to any deity or supernatural power-that-be that might be listening that she wouldn't be too late, that he wouldn't expect her, that she'd be fast enough to save fourteen people tonight, that she wouldn't die in the next ten minutes.

Adrian and Klaus had apparently been moving at normal walking speed. Perhaps Adrian was giving the others time to prepare. Perhaps Klaus was being cautious, sensing a threat. Perhaps Hayley had warned him, as part of her throwing a wrench into the gears, and he had already killed Adrian and was circling around to approach from a different angle. Whatever the reason was, despite their head start, the two hybrid men were still a few hundred yards from the cellar when Caroline scented them and slowed down a little to silence her footsteps. If Klaus noticed he was being stalked, he might snap and start killing people.

"Where's the witch?" Caroline heard Kim's voice demand shakily. Adrian heard as well, and tensed, then apparently figured out what was going to happen and ran for it, but Klaus was faster—and there was something long and straight in his hand.

"Kim?" Adrian called in terror as the sword descended on him.

That was when a rock flew out of the woods like a cannonball, knocking the sword point aside just as it grazed the hybrid's neck.

Caroline flung herself on top of Klaus, kicking his knees out from under him, at the same time that Adrian put on a burst of hyper-speed to cross the open space between himself and the rest of his pack. All was still for a heartbeat as each hybrid stared in surprise at the blonde vampire, still in her white party dress and high heels.

"Don't just _stand_ there!" Caroline shrieked, breaking the spell. " _Run_!"

As twelve figures scattered and blurred away through the trees, Klaus regained himself and tried to fling Caroline off of him, but she was ready, locking her legs around his middle and rolling with him as she tried to get her hands around his neck. He was still conscious, and she'd lost the shock factor.

This couldn't end well.

The Original Hybrid grabbed her calf and ripped her away from him, sending her flying into a tree, which shivered and scattered them both with bare winter twigs. He turned away, apparently more interested in chasing after the pack than fighting her, but she ripped an already-bending limb off of the tree and swung it at him. He dodged, but in doing so got several steps away from his sword, which he had dropped to free his hand while they grappled. Although he didn't need the weapon to kill Caroline or the Hybrids, apparently it was valuable to him, and as he realized that he no longer had it, she struck again, taking instant advantage of the millisecond when his focus was elsewhere.

This time, she got him from behind, locking her hands around his neck and jaw, but he stomped on her foot, probably breaking it, and threw her to the ground. She hung on grimly, turning in midair with a wrench of her hips so that he fell beneath her, and they both slammed into the hard earth, making the surrounding trees tremor, and frightening away the few brave birds that hadn't already sought shelter somewhere less violent.

Klaus's eyes met Caroline's for the briefest instant, and she knew from his expression that she'd gone too far, pushed his tolerance over the line.

He was going to kill her.

She felt… frighteningly calm.

Maybe it was because now she knew, even with all that was going on, through all the violence and pain and cruelty and death, and perhaps _because_ of all that, that deep inside, the person she'd become would protect others instinctively. There was a strange, immense power in selflessness, she thought, as adrenaline and vampirism sped her brain up so that each fraction of an instant could be filled with thoughts. She felt a little pleased with herself, a little sad that she couldn't make completely sure that everyone walked away from tonight alive and whole. But she wasn't afraid. The hard tension seemed to leech out of her muscles as she stood.

-0-

Klaus snarled wordlessly, catapulting back onto his feet before she could completely regain hers. He flashed around to grab her from behind, jaws wide and fangs extended to deliver a lethal dose of venom. She was out of second chances—past the point of no return—and he had bigger prey to hunt tonight. But she wasn't giving up without a fight. Her relaxed body moved impossibly quickly, and before he could strike, she smashed her elbow into his open mouth, breaking one of his fangs so that it fell into his throat, causing him to choke and lose his grip on her.

Without pausing, she whirled, using the momentum from her attack to propel her around to face him. As his lungs spasmed involuntarily to try and dislodge the long, sharp tooth from his throat, Caroline hammered the heel of her hand into his solar plexus with the force of a semi-truck crashing into a concrete wall. Although the blow dropped him to his knees, it did cause him to hack up the fang, which he spat into her face quite accidentally. It slashed a deep, angry red line across her cheek, but she barely flinched, already descending on him to ram her fist again and again into his jaw.

The Original Hybrid was hit with a wave of dizziness as she pounded mercilessly on the pressure point, but after a few seconds he was able to collect himself enough to catch her fist. With a powerful wrench like she'd used just moments ago, he rolled until he was on top of her, twisting her arm behind her back to hold her down. She struggled futilely against him; he was older and stronger, had more experience, and leverage and gravity were working against her.

His fang had not grown back yet—bones took a little longer than skin to regenerate—but he still had one perfectly good tooth, which he sank into her exposed neck. She cried out, but it was more a shout of frustration than an outright scream of pain or fear. Klaus snarled again as he sat up, keeping his hold on her while he surveyed his work, making sure she was done-for. Not only did her neck have a deep, infected wound, the elbow she'd broken his tooth off with had been grazed and poisoned in the act. The slash on her cheek had also likely gotten a dose. She was dead for certain.

And Klaus found that the terrible emptiness that had consumed him for the last hour, as he learned that Caroline, Stefan, Tyler, Hayley and all of his Hybrids had each betrayed him; the cold, painful void of loneliness, which he had not been able to imagine becoming worse, now somehow ripped even further into him, pulling him lower and lower into the dark, despairing pit that had been forming inside his heart. Caroline was going to die. There would be no more chances with her—no more slim possibilities that _this time_ she wasn't distracting him or being used as a bribe, that maybe, for once, she just enjoyed his company half as much as he enjoyed hers.

"Why?" he half whispered, half growled. With vampiric speed, he stood, pulling her up and pinning her against a tree, her arm still twisted, her body trapped between the rough bark and his own chest. "I gave them everything. I freed them from a lifetime of agony!" he continued, almost feverishly, voice rising with every word until he was shouting into her face. "I provided an outlet to Stefan—gave him someone worse than himself! And you… You!" His face was inches from hers, his hazel eyes searing into her blue ones.

She stared up at him unabashedly, features unnaturally calm for someone who had werewolf venom racing through her veins and was being pinned to a tree by an enraged hybrid. She had to know that she was going to either die quickly, right here and now, or slowly over the next few hours. Yet there was no fear in her eyes as they met his. The wave of emptiness hit him again as he realized that even through his rage, he was vaguely impressed by her boldness. Gone would be the feisty girl who was neither afraid of him when he rampaged nor impressed by him when he didn't. Whatever words he had been about to say to her about her repeated betrayal were stolen away, like the finality of her imminent death had been another winding blow to his lungs.

He allowed the rage to take a stronger hold of his mind, coloring his eyes eerily gold and distracting him from the pain. It was better to be angry than to be hurt. He felt his fang grow back in, and he ran his tongue over it experimentally.

"What did you expect?" she demanded, voice strong, clear, piercing. "Did you really think they would just lie down and lick your feet, Klaus? They're people, not pets. You saved them from a lifetime of pain, yes, but in exchange you took away their free wills, condemning them to a lifetime—an _immortal, eternal_ lifetime—of servitude to you. You replaced a terrible fate with a worse one!" Once again, pain ripped through him, and although he was careful not to show it with his body, it was so powerful it nearly made him stagger back. So being with him was worse than a lifetime of agony, was it?

"And they're just supposed to accept that?" she continued, either not noticing or not caring how much her tirade hurt him. "I'm amazed that somebody who's been around as long as you have doesn't know more about basic human nature."

"What would _you_ know about it?" He snarled back, finding his voice. "What do you think you know about me? You cannot imagine what it's like, to be hated by every single person who knows your name! If I cannot be loved, then I will be feared instead. _You know nothing_!" He shouted, twisting her arm harder and forcing her further into the tree-trunk.

"No?" she countered. "What can't I imagine? What don't I know? Being hunted down and tortured by my own _father_? Check. Having friends who turned out to be staying close to me as part of a half-baked grand scheme to expose me as a vampire and kill me? Check. Being captured, shot, vervained, burned, staked, had my bones broken for sport? Check all down the line. Oh, I don't have to imagine, Klaus. I may not have lived as long as you, but accounting for my brief time as a vampire?" Suddenly it was her eyes boring into his, and he couldn't look away. "I _do_ know. I get it."

"Then why?" he roared into her face. "If you have all the answers, miss-17-year-old-small-town-vampire, then by all means, share. What the hell is it that makes it so damn impossible for people to just—" he clenched his teeth together, anger and hopelessness overwhelming him.

"To 'just' _what_ , Klaus?" She snapped. "How were you going to finish that sentence? To just obey you? To just care about you? Because you demand it! You keep acting like you think you're God or something! And guess what? Most people don't react very well to having their free will taken away!"

"They were slaves to the moon before!" Klaus shouted.

"Yep," she countered with a nod, voice clipped, volume normal. "One night a month. Now, they're slaves to you every hour of every day. And yeah, you took their pain away, but you replaced it with more. How many of them have you served up to be killed? By Connor, by Jeremy? How about when your father came to town—how many of them died then? You didn't free them from anything!"

" _I_ was the first! _I_ was supposed to lead them! _I_ was the exception, the indestructible, the _king_!"

"And so you treat people like you think you're better than they are, and expect them to be grateful to you? How would _you_ like that? What would you do if you were them? Lie there and take it? When someone says 'jump' you say 'how high?' A person's freedom to make their own decisions is what makes them who they are. Take that away, and it's almost like you've killed them. You don't respect _them_ , so they don't respect you."

Bile rose in his throat, pushed there by the despair roiling in his stomach. So he'd been a fool to even expect anything?

"What do you know about free will?" he demanded in a growl, unwilling to give up. "You've never been sired, unless there's something about you and Damon that you're not telling me, although judging from your conduct towards him, I highly doubt it."

She surprised him with a dry, humorless laugh. "Well, yeah, actually," she said. "It _is_ because of Damon that I understand. I was human when the vampires came to town, and Damon, being a vampire, needed a food source. And Damon, being Damon, wanted a lot more than that." Her eyes unfocused a little, remembering. Her voice was soft—it seemed even quieter, after all the shouting.

"I was his slave, compelled to get him into places, fetch him things, orchestrate events, keep his secrets quiet, sleep with him, feed him at his demand, smile like a sycophant, and repress my natural, self-preserving fear. And for my trouble, he emotionally and physically abused me, and was planning to kill me when he was finished with me."

For a moment, Klaus was confused, as his old rage combined with a new wave of crushing hatred for the unworthy creature who had done this to her. It shouldn't have upset him. He was a dark man, and had done dark, cruel things to the point where it no longer bothered him. Anyway, Caroline would be dead soon, so it didn't matter what she'd suffered in the past. Pain surged through him once again at the thought of her death. But she was out of second chances, he reminded himself.

"I agree that the hybrids owed you some gratitude and loyalty for freeing them from the Lycanthropy curse," she continued levelly. "But not their _bodies, minds and souls,_ Klaus. No one deserves to have their liberty taken away like that. They chose to go through hell to get their freedom back. That is their right as people. I'd do the same thing if I were in their shoes—even if I _wasn't_ sired to someone who didn't have my best interests at heart. Even if I was sired to Tyler, somehow, or even better, _Elena_! In the end, I'd still do anything I needed to do to break it. And even though it's like drinking acid, and it makes me weak and sick, I drink my vervain every morning, _because I would rather_ _ **die in agony**_ _than exist without living_. And I believe that's how they feel, too."

She fell silent, eyes still locked on his, face set and determined. She wasn't backing down, or pleading, or working an angle. There was nothing behind those eyes but bold, uncensored truth.

Thick white flakes of snow began to drift through the treetops, landing on Caroline's hair and sticking there for a long time before they began to melt. The forest was impossibly quiet. The hybrids were long gone, and the animals were all either hiding from the chilly night or from the violent creatures.

"What I said at the ball? I meant it," she finally sighed. "You don't relate to people because you don't even try to understand them. You don't put yourself in their shoes, try to feel their pain, think about what they want and need. _That's_ why you're alone. _Not_ because you're a 'monster,' or because your family life sucked, or because the people you try to have relationships with are just horrible people. It's because you refuse to feel compassion. That's the basis of relationships, Klaus. Without it, all the compulsion and sire-bonds and charm and charisma and expensive gifts in the world won't make up for it. I'm sorry," she finished softly, "but that's the way it works."

Finally, Klaus broke the connection of their gaze, turning his eyes downward and blinking hard a few times. Despair was a cold feeling—colder than the snow slowly coating his hair, colder than the wind whirling and spinning and speeding between the trees and tugging at his coat.

"Now, unless you're going to cure me or kill me on the spot," Caroline murmured, "please let me go. I have some stuff I'd like to talk to my mom about."

Klaus's eyes flickered back up to meet hers for a second before he turned away, releasing her. Her expression was sad, but not afraid or calculating or angry, as anyone else's most likely would have been. He could see that all three wounds were infected, and as she walked away, favoring her injured foot, he began to fully comprehend that in a day or two, she wasn't going to exist anymore. The girl with the heated gaze, who wasn't afraid to speak her mind, even to him, who was strong enough to deal not only with enemies but with the complexities of her friends… She was going to die.

She wouldn't have gone for him anyway, he thought as he stood there like a statue, hand still brushing against the tree trunk. She would never have chosen him over Tyler—Tyler, who could convince a dozen other people that it was a good idea to shatter every one of their bones over and over and over again. It was the first time since his father's death that Niklaus had felt inferior to anyone, and he hated that feeling. He knew that even killing Tyler wouldn't make it better. He would still be alone.

And Caroline would be dead, so he would even have their constant banter to look forward too.

She was the one keeping Stefan from going over the edge and becoming the Ripper of Monterey again. Perhaps after she was dead, his old friend would come back to him. Or perhaps Stefan would hate him from the edge of insanity just as much as he did now.

If he couldn't have her, then no one should.

She was the one who supported the other members of her dysfunctional friend group as they fell in love, became immersed in hatred, and generally tried to coexist. She was the one who demanded humanity out of them; who insisted that they show up at social events and live their lives even when the world was falling to pieces around their ears. She was the one who forced her mother to see vampires as more than just monsters. When she was gone, they might possibly turn on one another. That would be fun to watch.

Or perhaps the deep, cold emptiness filling his chest now would spread to the lot of them.

When she was gone…

It took exactly seven seconds for Klaus's enhanced, hybrid brain to fully imagine what the world would be like without Caroline. In that time, she had walked through the trees, past the cellar entrance, and nearly vanished from his sight.

At vampire speed, it took him a mere instant to rush after her and appear in front of her, blocking her path. She looked at him questioningly.

He rolled up his sleeve, not meeting her eyes.

No, she would not love him. Because he was out of second chances—past the point of no return. But she would still exist. He could find it in himself—in the darkest, coldest part of himself—to enjoy the idea that the people who kept betraying him and hurting him would suffer without her. Yet in spite of that, in spite of the fact that he would be doing a kindness to people he hated, that was still better than the alternative. He needed her to exist.

He wanted her to live, even though she was not his.

When he'd rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, he finally looked up at her face, offering his exposed skin wordlessly. She stared at him for a moment, as if deciding whether to trust his offer or not. Then she stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, and sank her fangs deep into his arm, moving just a bit faster than human speed. Although she wouldn't beg, she wanted to live pretty badly, he thought with something like wry amusement. As she sucked away at his blood, he shifted slowly forward so that his chest was touching her back and right side, and wrapped his free arm around her waist, resting his forehead against the side of her head.

He felt her fangs withdraw when she'd drunk enough to heal herself, but he didn't let go, and for a moment, she didn't pull away, but stood there and let him hold her. Then she turned to look up at him.

"You'd better be careful," she warned softly. "Someday I may not take you seriously as a threat anymore."

He'd rather have bit his own tongue out than admit how much he wished that were true.

He settled for glaring at her, and growling softly that she shouldn't push her luck any more that night, before letting go and turning back towards town. She walked beside him in silence until they reached paved streets, lights and other trappings of civilization. Then she looked over at him awkwardly, eyes flashing to his face, then down to the street, then back to his face again.

"Good night," she finally said, and sped off in the direction of her house.

"Good night," he responded, a moment too late.

-0-

"What do you mean, 'he didn't kill them?'" Shane demanded, hands shaking with rage.

"I mean exactly what I said," Hayley snapped. "I told him what was going on, he went and fetched his sword out of his car and followed Adrian into the woods, one big bundle of hybrid rage. Half an hour later, the other hybrids had scattered, and Klaus was walking out of the woods with Caroline _freaking_ Forbes, little white dress all covered in bloodstains and dirt, but totally alive. He looked calm as anything; I don't know what happened."

"Refresh my memory—Caroline Forbes?" Shane asked tiredly, rubbing his thumb and index finger into his eyelids.

"Vampire, cheerleader, perky blonde," Hayley listed in a bored tone. "Tyler's girlfriend, Miss Mystic Falls, Klaus wants to get in her pants..."

"If you knew he had interest in her, why didn't you get her out of the way?" Shane hissed.

"I snapped her neck and left her in a public restroom," Hayley protested. "How was I supposed to know that the first thing she'd do when she woke up was run headlong into the middle of a hybrid massacre? That's suicide for just about anyone!"

"Clearly not for her," Shane pointed out. "Perhaps Klaus cares more about her than you realize."

"Look," Hayley sighed. "It didn't go as planned. I'm sorry. But it really doesn't need to be hybrids, right? Any 'demons' will do?"

"It's not ideal," Shane responded, "but yes, twelve vampires _or_ werewolves would suffice."

"Well, okay then," Hayley said, standing up to leave. "Klaus is still a killer—it shouldn't be too hard to get him to do the deed. All I have to do is make sure that Caroline is otherwise occupied that day. Given her love for parties, fashion and all things ridiculously girly, that can't be too difficult."

"Do whatever you need to do," Shane replied. "But make sure she stays occupied. If she mellows him out, then he's of no use to us. Endanger the people she cares about or something—make sure every corner of her brain is as full as it can be. No mistakes this time, Hayley."

"I won't," Hayley snapped, turning on her heel and exiting the room.


	2. Truth be Told

One thing that Caroline usually _liked_ about being a vampire was that her brain was so much more efficient. She could think about a dozen things at once and understand all of them simultaneously. But that day, she found it ridiculously frustrating, as she sat through the after-school Town Hall meeting in the gymnasium. Since most of the council had been blown to smithereens in the Young farm disaster, several new members had recently been sworn in, and were now sitting a panel at the school, discussing such riveting topics as curfews, educational reform, and… blah, blah, blah.

Caroline's vampiric powers of comprehension delivered each and every word into her conscious mind, but none of them could drown out her memories of last night, when she'd picked a fight with an Original Hybrid. She was still having a massive adrenal rush from that. She'd barely slept afterwards, and had wound up going running at three in the morning, and then stress-cleaning half her house, becoming so absorbed in her work that she was nearly late for school.

Consequently, she had also forgotten to take her vervain that morning, and after the way she'd thrown that little fact in Klaus's face last night, she felt naked and vulnerable about it. Even though there were only four people in the world who could compel her—one of whom was daggered in a box and two of whom had apparently skipped town—she avoided making eye-contact with anyone, as if her subconscious was trying to protect itself.

Added to all of that, Tyler was sitting next to her on the bleachers. He'd turned up to school that day like nothing was wrong, and every cell in her body was screaming at him to run, get out of town, go find a deep dark hole and hide in it, do something to protect himself from the inevitable surge of Klaus-wrath when the Original found out that his nemesis was still in Mystic Falls. Hindsight being 20/20, Caroline realized that for this very reason she should NOT have told him about the fight. Now he was staying in town to protect her, and he might die, whereas she was pretty confident in her safety—at least from Klaus. But Tyler was in a stubborn mood, and she felt like she was talking to the wall when she tried to convince him to run for it.

Since her vampire-enhanced mind was not yet full of all these wonderfully calming thoughts, she kept envisioning Klaus's face, when he shouted at her, when she told him what was what, when he healed her, when she said goodnight. Despite everything he'd done, she felt compassion for him. Maybe it was because, in the middle of her tirade, when she tried to convince him that they were alike, she had wound up convincing herself of the same.

This gymnasium was where they'd first met.

If she'd been a normal human being, half of those thoughts would have completely occupied her conscious mind, and she'd have had quite enough stress to be getting on with. But, she was hardly so lucky. Stefan still didn't know about Damon and Elena, and she stared at the back of his head miserably; he'd opted for the front row, probably to avoid Elena, who had installed herself between Bonnie and April. Bonnie, whose dad was now head of the council, meaning he also ran the secret, supernatural council, so now as a witch she had to answer to him on multiple different levels…

Caroline rubbed her forehead tiredly. The minute she got out of this useless meeting, she was going to take the longest, hottest bath in the whole wide world, guzzle some of her mom's fancy alcohol, and hopefully sleep for twelve hours. She'd been infected by a hybrid just last night, and _really_ needed some pampering.

It didn't help matters that Matt had texted her to say that said vengeful hybrid had showed up at the lake house to speed up Jeremy's training… And while she was on the subject of blood and blood-colored things, she still needed to pick up 500 red balloons for the decade dance… She groaned softly, and Tyler put his arm around her, probably thinking that she was just exhausted from last night's near-death experience. If only that was her biggest issue.

It was probably about then that April Young got up and slipped out. It was several thoughts later when Caroline saw Elena get up and follow. The meeting finally adjourned, and Bonnie made her way through the crowd to her dad. Since Elena had picked Caroline up that day, she kissed Tyler briefly and exited through the door her vampire friend had taken. Then for the second time in two days, a pair of hands locked around her head, she felt a horrible snapping sensation in her neck, and the world blurred out.

-0-

"Wha—" Caroline mumbled as she regained consciousness, and then Rebekah was right in front of her, expanding pupils filling her vision, boring right into her nervous system.

"You will not run off," Rebekah intoned coolly. "You will answer all of my questions truthfully. You will do everything I say." Caroline's earlier paranoia about the vervain was now intense regret burning through her veins. She needed a vial in her purse or something. It didn't help that there was so little of it left—between herself and her mother, they'd nearly gone through Liz's personal stash.

"So," Rebekah announced, stepping back and looking around the table. Caroline's eyes followed hers, and she saw that Tyler, Stefan and Elena were all there, looking similarly restrained. "What've I missed?"

"Me developing ADHD," Caroline replied instantly, compulsion unhinging her jaw. Tyler smirked for a second before returning to looking concerned. Rebekah laughed, and then addressed the group.

"While I've been lying daggered in a box, you lot have all been scrambling to find the cure, and yet you're all still vampires, so you don't have it yet. I thought that Stefan would stop at nothing to get the cure for poor, dear Elena, so that he could grow old and die with her. What changed? Stefan?"

"She's with Damon," he grudgingly answered. Caroline looked at his face as Rebekah's compulsion tore the painful truth from him. She could tell, from the set of his jaw, the hardness of his eyes, that he'd put two and two together and figured out just how together they were. Her heart ached for him, and if she hadn't been sitting across the table and compelled not to get up, she'd have taken his hand, or put her arm around him. But, thanks to Rebekah, she was glued to her seat, a good two yards from her hurting friend. Thus began Rebekah's sadistic game of truth-or-dare.

"Elena, truth or dare?" she asked gleefully.

"Dare," Elena snapped back, clearly preferring the possibility of a dangerous or painful stunt to whatever Rebekah would make her divulge.

"I dare you to tell Stefan why you're with Damon," Rebekah responded silkily. Elena glared up at her, hatred blazing in her eyes. But she had to answer.

"Lately, when I'm around Stefan," she admitted slowly, "I feel like he's trying to fix me, like he can't accept me for who I am now. I can't be with someone who sees me as a broken toy. But when I'm around Damon, I feel free. I feel like he'll love me no matter what I do or how I change. I'm happy." Caroline scoffed a little, and Rebekah turned in her direction.

"Somebody's still 'Team Stefan' all the way, it seems," she commented. "What ever happened to 'chicks before dicks,' or whatever the kids are saying these days?"

"Elena is _sired_ to Damon," Caroline hissed. "We have no way of knowing how much of what she feels is real."

"Oh my!" Rebekah exclaimed. "That is fascinating. What are your thoughts on the subject, Tyler?"

"The sire bond only affects how a person acts—not how they feel. I hate Klaus, but when I was sired to him, I did everything he said."

"Speaking of my brother," Rebekah continued, "why isn't he hunting down your collective asses for sitting around at mandatory town meetings instead of working on finding the cure?" She looked around the table, but no one volunteered anything.

"Answer the question," she snapped at Tyler.

"He got a little distracted when the hybrids and I plotted to take him down last night," he sighed. Rebekah looked somewhere between impressed and sympathetic for about half a second before she returned to business-mode.

"I'm guessing that means you're the last dog standing," she sighed.

"Actually, the others all got away," Tyler admitted, Rebekah's compulsion saturating his brain. "They left town. Apparently, Caroline went toe-to-toe with Klaus last night when he was about to kill them, and walked away in one piece."

"Well now," Rebekah breathed, eyes widening as she looked at Caroline. "How did you manage that?"

"I didn't," Caroline admitted. "We fought, he won; he just decided not to kill me." Inside, she cringed. She'd told Tyler that she had snapped Klaus's neck from behind, and then chained him up in the old Lockwood cellar before he came around. Now he was going to be even more overprotective. _Thanks_ , Rebekah.

"That's Nik, for you," Rebekah grumbled. "He'll stab his siblings in the back repeatedly, but when it comes to killing someone he's aiming to sleep with, suddenly he has morals. But honestly, Caroline—a hybrid pissing contest? What were you doing involved with that in the first place?" Fear twisted Caroline's gut into a knot. Her heart pounded. She hadn't realized that she had any secrets worth keeping until this moment—that was all Stefan and Elena's deal today. Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

"I knew something was going wrong," she said truthfully. "Hayley was being shady. I wanted to make sure everyone walked away safely. My thoughts on the subject didn't go too much further than that."

"Then why wouldn't you just tell Tyler to call off the plan?" Rebekah asked. "Surely he didn't go up against my brother without a Plan B. Tell me, Caroline."

"Because," Caroline breathed, the words exiting her throat entirely by the power of Rebekah's mind-control. "Then not _everybody_ would have walked away." There was silence for a beat.

"You're including Niklaus in that," Rebekah accused. "Aren't you? Answer me."

"Yes." She looked straight at Rebekah. It was better than looking at Tyler. Rebekah's predatory grin should have frightened her, but for some reason it was just annoying.

"So, Elena's in bed with Damon, Caroline's rescuing Klaus, and you're all scrambling after the cure like rats in a wheel," Rebekah summed up. "Looks like I missed quite a bit. Now, about that cure."

Rebekah's quiz of Stefan about the cure blurred by in Caroline's brain. Strange, since she'd been focusing on so many things without trying too before. But right now, one all-consuming thought filled her mind. Don't look at Tyler. Somehow, if she made eye-contact with him, Rebekah's compulsion would spill from his eyes to hers, and she'd spill her guts, about the way she'd empathized with Klaus, the way he'd held her while she drank his blood, the way she'd let him, even after he'd just tried to kill her. He'd know every humiliating detail if she met his gaze, which she could feel burning through her left temple. So, she looked down at her hands, memorizing every line of her fingers, and trying not to listen to Rebekah's interrogation.

"Well then," the blonde Original announced at last. "I think that'll be all. Tyler: _turn_."

"What?" Tyler choked out. Caroline was suddenly very much aware of her surroundings. "No! I'll kill them!"

"Exactly," Rebekah responded flippantly. "Now," she added, her pupils widening again. "TURN." Tyler took several steps back, as if the force of her compulsion had been a physical blow.

"No vamp running in the hallway," Rebekah instructed, "and no one leaves the building. Bye now." And with a dimply smile, she flipped her hair, turned on her heel, and exited.

Tyler fell to his knees, groaning and clutching at himself futilely.

"I can fight it," he panted. "But you have to run! Now!" Stefan and Elena took off out of the room, running as fast as the damn compulsion would let them, but Caroline, although she backed off a few paces, waited in the room. With her life in danger, her mind was working on overdrive, and her thoughts were finally clear. He'd turn. But, since he was fighting the transformation, it hurt him, even though in breaking the sire bond he'd learned to do it without pain. He'd be angrier when he finally transitioned, but he'd also be weaker and slower. She could get him to chase her into the sound booth in the gym, then she'd lock the door, and he'd throw himself at it until he got tired, at which point he'd turn back into a human. Hopefully.

Of course, if she timed it wrong, he'd catch her, and that would likely be the end of her relatively short immortal life.

Tyler's fangs extended, and his facial bones shifted and elongated. That was her cue. Caroline turned and dashed out the other door, towards the gymnasium. She could hear the sound of Tyler crashing into bookshelves and skidding across the slick hallway behind her. The gym seemed horribly wide open, and much longer than she remembered, and not having vampire speed as an advantage was like something out of a fevered nightmare.

She took the stairs three at a time, and felt the air shift as Tyler's jaws closed within a hair's breadth of her calf, just before she slammed the heavy door shut behind her and leaned against it. The thing was abnormally heavy—the cheer squad had used to joke that it was bulletproof, in case a wild gunman came to the game and demanded a score change or something. It shivered as Tyler rammed himself into it, but held admirably. Thank goodness Rebekah hadn't compelled them out of using vampire strength, too.

Tyler's barrage on the door took about fifteen minutes to abate, and afterwards, Caroline sat there, breathing hard and listening very carefully to the sound of silence echoing through the gym. Then, she inhaled steadily once, blew out the breath, and opened the door.

Tyler lay on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, naked and human. Relief flooded through Caroline, and she rushed back down the stairs. Tyler sat up with a groan.

"Care?" he murmured blearily. "Did I…?"

"You didn't hurt anybody," She responded quietly, sitting down beside him. Something clicked in her head, like a door opening, and she realized that somewhere, Rebekah must have freed them.

"Sorry," Tyler said, jerking his head towards the battered door. "Thought I was done with doing that when I became a hybrid."

"It all turned out okay," Caroline replied, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing gently at his shoulders, which tended to be the sorest part of him after a rough turn.

"Care…" he started, but trailed off.

"I just didn't want you guys to get hurt," she said immediately. "And I didn't want you to sacrifice your humanity just to take down Klaus either. So—"

"I get it," Tyler assured her, with only a hint of bitterness. "I was going to say… I need to leave." He made eye-contact with her for the first time that day. "You were right this morning. I need to get out of town. You're safer without me here, Klaus wants me dead, and the pack needs their alpha. I need to go where I'm needed."

She wanted to say that _she_ needed him, here, but he'd die if he stayed. She wanted to say that the pack could fend for themselves, but she'd met them, and they'd turn on each other in a minute if Tyler didn't handle them. She wanted to tell him to stay. Instead, she kissed him once, lingeringly. A goodbye kiss.

Tyler headed off to the locker room to find some of his clothes, and Caroline made her escape, wanting to get home and into her own bed before reality hit and she started crying. He kept doing this to her—packing his whole life into a duffel bag and walking off into the sunset to do werewolf things.

Rain and sleet started falling from the night sky, pelting her and saturating her hair and clothes. It was probably incredibly cold, but Caroline's vampire skin didn't even get gooseflesh. She'd ridden to school with Elena, who was a little preoccupied with her Salvatore drama, and had probably forgotten that Caroline's car was still in her driveway. She could have vamp-sped herself home, but somehow the impulse didn't make it from her brain to her limbs. She wondered if he'd ever come back. She wondered if he'd answer his phone more often this time. She wondered if she should stop calling him, and quit while she was ahead, before she made her way into stalker territory.

"Do you need a ride?"

Caroline froze. Why the hell was Klaus's voice coming from her left side, out of… oh. Klaus's car. He was coasting along the side of the road, passenger side window rolled down. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and the one-second window where she might've had enough brainpower to whoosh out of sight fled her. She looked up at the deluge, and down at herself. Then she looked at his car.

"Depends," she called back, trying to be flippant. "What are your seats made of, and how well do they tolerate being soaking wet?" Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"Get in," he said, leaning over and pushing the door open. Caroline twisted the worst of the wetness out of her hair before opening the door all the way and climbing into the expensive-smelling leather interior of the car. Well, it wasn't like Klaus-freaking-Mikaelson couldn't get the seats cleaned.

"So, why's a pretty girl like you walking around in weather like this?" he asked conversationally as he shifted the car into gear and got up to speed.

"Elena drove me to school, Rebekah distracted her and Stefan with Damon drama, and she forgot to drive me home," Caroline explained tiredly. "Oh, yeah, your sister's awake," she added.

"And in a mood, I imagine," Klaus finished after a surprised pause so brief that a human wouldn't have noticed it.

"Oh yeah," Caroline agreed, burying her face in her hands.

"You're not fond of Damon and Elena together, are you, love?" he probed. "Because of your history with him, or out of affection for Stefan?"

"Both," she sighed, too emotionally exhausted to bother deciding whether or not to have this conversation with him. "It's just too sad, to see true love go down in flames, over _him_ of all people." Somehow, it was an image of Tyler's face, not Stefan's, which swam before her vision when she spoke. True love was meant to last forever, wasn't it?

"Because he's bad for her?" Klaus filled in, turning onto her street.

"No," Caroline admitted grudgingly, sitting up and leaning back into the seat. "He's not bad _for her—_ he's just _bad_." Then, for the third time that day, she made the mistake of making eye-contact with someone. Klaus wasn't even pretending to watch the road. Freezing rain pattered loudly against the windshield as the unspoken truth hung in the air between them—it wasn't just Damon she was talking about. Caroline wrenched her gaze away first.

"I just want her to be happy," she said, turning the topic very carefully back to Damon and Elena specifically. "She's my friend, and I love her, and she's had a lot of bad stuff happen in her life; she deserves some happiness."

"What if he is the one who makes her happy?" Klaus suggested softly. The car slowed to a stop—they were at the bottom of Caroline's driveway. "Could you accept him then?"

"I don't know," Caroline replied honestly, looking back at him. He'd gone back to looking out ahead of them, but now they weren't moving. She dropped her eyes to her knees again. "Sometimes…" she admitted, barely whispering the words, "Sometimes I catch myself wishing I could forget… all of the horrible things he's done…"

She could feel him looking at her, then, and the tension was back, and thicker than ever.

"But you can't," he whispered back hollowly. "You can't, can you?" Caroline turned her face, and met his eyes. She wasn't sure what her face looked like—sad? stubborn? hateful?

"No," she admitted miserably. Klaus dropped his eyes and blinked a few times.

"Thank you for the ride," she said, opening the door, and stepping out into the rain.

This time, he didn't murmur "goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Klaus-a-geddon was turned back by a Caroline-ter-vention in the last chapter, Carol Lockwood still walks among the living. Rudy Hopkins took Pastor Young's spot as head of the council, instead of being mayor.
> 
> Since Caroline was at home recuperating from a near-death experience courtesy of Klaus, she wasn't spilling Elena's secrets to Stefan. However, I think he could have intuited that much without her helping—he basically did anyway, she just confirmed it, in the original show. The other events of After School Special, Klaus turning a bar full of innocent people for Jeremy to kill and then leaving him to it, Kol almost killing Shane, and Bonnie almost killing April, all occur; Caroline simply isn't consciously aware of them at the time they're occurring.
> 
> Anyway, you've already seen the episode (I hope, haha! I am spoilerific, in case that wasn't dreadfully obvious by now). You don't need to read all of those details again—my chapters are horrendously long enough as it is!


	3. Racing Death

After two days of practically non-stop worry, danger, and flirtations with death, Caroline Forbes was damn ready for a little time off. Saturday dawned gray and chilly, and she turned off her alarm and rolled over, wondering why she'd set it in the first place. With Jeremy's head screwed on straight and all of the vampire-hunting madness going on a good two hour drive out of town, today promised to be blissfully unremarkable. Not for everyone, of course—she'd heard from Elena about Kol killing all of Klaus' barfly vampires, and compelling Damon to try to kill Jeremy in turn. But Elena and Stefan were on it, and what was done was done. She wasn't really up to letting herself feel upset about yet another gruesome tragedy when she didn't' have the power to fix it. She snuggled down deeper into her covers.

Then, just as she got wonderfully comfortable, she remembered that final preparations for the Decade Dance were scheduled for that morning—which was why she'd set the stupid alarm.

With a groan, she rolled back to face her phone where it sat on its charging station, showing a time of 7:02am in faintly glowing numerals. She had to get up. She was never going to get away with not showing…

Of course, Bonnie and Elena had given her endless grief about coming to the carnival to check up on them the day that she turned. With a sleepy grin, she unplugged her phone and typed Bonnie's name into her contacts menu. This situation called for a little long-overdue trust.

It was the strange hallmark of friendships between supernatural girls that the reason Bonnie agreed that Caroline needed the day off wasn't the fact that she'd been compelled into spilling her darkest secrets and attacked by two different hybrids in as many days. No, pain, danger and near-death experiences were all too common for the magical population of Mystic Falls, and life didn't stop over those. But the fact that Tyler had skipped town again, leaving Caroline for the third time without really deciding if they were broken up or together—that really engaged the teenage witch's sympathies, and she naturally agreed to take Caroline's place at dance prep. With profuse thanks and expressions of confidence, Caroline hung up, plugged her phone in, and curled back into her bed for a nice long morning nap.

Unfortunately, twenty minutes later, her phone went off again. April Young was a darling, but an experienced community leader she certainly was not, Caroline mused to herself as the younger girl panicked on the other end of the line, talking about how she was supposed to attend the Town Beautification Committee meeting with the newly inducted council, and she didn't have a clue what to do or how to act—or even what to wear.

So it was that Caroline rolled out of bed, french-braided her hair to hide its un-straightened, un-curled, un-anything-intentional state, dressed quickly in her favorite yellow blouse and jeans, and headed over to City Hall to provide moral support for her untrained replacement.

Technically speaking, Caroline was still MFBC chair, but this meeting was so routine that she'd figured it would be an excellent opportunity for April to learn the ropes. She had underestimated the other girl's nerves, but once she was there acting like everything was normal and okay, April perked up and was just fine. Mentally thanking Stefan for swooping in last night and compelling April to forget the stuff she wasn't supposed to know, Caroline settled into her duties, making a mental note to turn her phone _off_ when she went to bed that night. As the council discussed the condition of the town's roads, the plans for improving the water circulation system, and what to do about the burned-out shell of the Gilbert Clinic, Caroline made mental plans to sleep all day Sunday.

Once she was up, though, she was up, and after the council meeting, she found herself running errands, doing laundry, and having a highly censored conversation with Tiki about Tyler. "We didn't break up," she insisted. "We just have different life goals that affect where we live." The other girl didn't seem convinced, and Caroline didn't feel very convinced herself. His devotion to the pack… Well, something about this time just seemed final. This time, he actually had something outside of Mystic Falls; the other two times, it had been all about what he was running _from_ , and never about what he was running _too_. This time was different. But! They hadn't actually broken up. Yet.

It was April who called to tell her that the dance was cancelled and the curfew reinstated. Caroline wasn't sure which emotion was stronger—rage, that the council would dare interrupt something as sacred as a high school dance, or relief that she hadn't forced herself out of bed to do prep that morning. Disappointed, she carefully packed her 1980's dance outfit back into her closet. As a senior, she wouldn't get another chance to do this decade, and last year, Klaus had turned up in Alaric's body and ruined the thing… Well, on the bright side, nobody was going to die at the dance tonight, as was becoming a disturbing tradition in Mystic.

It was around five when Elena called her, freaking out about Kol. Apparently, after Stefan caught his compelled brother and locked him up, Kol had come to the school to try and kill Bonnie, so she couldn't do the spell. Things were entirely out of hand. Stefan was on get-the-dagger-from-Rebekah duty, Damon was bled out and locked in the Salvatore basement, and Bonnie wasn't answering her phone.

"I'll go help Stefan, then come to your place and we'll figure out what to do about Kol," Caroline responded hurriedly, and Elena disconnected.

No, this was hardly going to be a restful day. Tomorrow didn't look too promising either.

Elena had told her that Stefan got Rebekah to go to the school with him—something about making up for the canceled dance. Caroline headed there immediately, and slipped in through the football field door at the side of the building. She wasn't sure what she expected to find, but it sure as hell wasn't a trail of Rebekah's and Stefan's clothing leading down the hallway from the gym towards the locker room. Caroline groaned internally. Stefan had officially lost it—what was he doing sleeping with Rebekah? Especially over the dagger! Just yesterday, Rebekah had been compelling them and trying to kill them! What had changed overnight? She wasn't sure who she felt sorrier for, Rebekah, as the used woman, or Stefan, at the mercy of the she-devil.

Doing her damndest not to listen in, Caroline quickly and quietly rooted through Rebekah's purse until she unearthed the little square bottle of ashes. Jackpot! Now if only she could find the actual dagger. Rebekah was paranoid, but she wouldn't literally have it on her during sex, would she? Now came the horribly awkward question of just how badly Caroline wanted to help save Jeremy…

"Care?" Matt's whisper was barely audible, even to Caroline's vampire ears. He was peering around the corner. In the blink of an eye, she was at his side, covering his mouth and nodding towards the locker room door. He nodded, and they retreated down the hallway.

"Rebekah offered the dagger to Stefan, but then his distracting her turned into…" Matt trailed off awkwardly, glancing back in the direction they'd come and turning the silver dagger over in his hand. "And I didn't know where the ashes were, so I was going to look through her stuff when you showed up."

"If Rebekah offered it to Stefan, why isn't he rushing to Elena's to dagger Kol?" Caroline hissed furiously.

"See, the thing is," Matt explained, voice dark. "The dagger was actually for Rebekah, although I guess now Stefan's got that part covered... Elena's got Jeremy working on killing Kol—for real." Caroline blinked twice in shock.

"What?" was all she could get out.

"If Jeremy kills one Original vampire," Matt continued patiently, "then his entire sire line will die off. That could be tens of thousands of vampires—the Hunter's Mark would be done in one kill."

"So, indiscriminate mass murder is the magical, miracle answer to all our problems," Caroline choked out. "Did you just say that _Elena_ convinced him to do this?"

"I know it's dark, Care," he began, but she cut him off.

"Dark? Dark? Matt!" Her voice was somewhere between a whisper and a shriek, as she fought to keep her volume down and yet fully express herself. "Jeremy's going to slaughter untold thousands of vampires, vampires that could be new turns, vampires that could be like Stefan, doing everything in his power to walk the straight and narrow and do the right thing, vampires like Elena, who have people who love them, and would be devastated over their deaths? Matt, this is probably bigger than the biggest group of people that Klaus himself has ever killed at one time! This isn't dark—it's… it's… horrific!"

"You sure you aren't projecting… whatever it is you feel for Klaus… onto this situation?" Caroline stared at him in disbelief. His face and posture told her that those had been hard words to get out. She wanted to bash his head into the wall. She wanted to shake him. She settled for snatching the dagger out of his hand, not hard enough to really injure him, but hard enough to sting.

"Caroline!" he demanded. "Whose side are you on?"

"Whose… side…?" She was so angry she couldn't finish her thought. He thought this was about _sides_? About _Klaus_?

"I needed you on my side, Care!" Tyler had shouted at her the day he and the hybrids had captured her and Stefan interfering with their plan. Why didn't people ever get that sometimes it wasn't that simple?

Right there, staring into Matt's angry blue eyes, Caroline Forbes made a decision—the decision that she'd really made that cold, snowy night in the forest, but hadn't been able to articulate to herself, let alone admit aloud.

"I'm done with sides," she snapped. "Because, Matt, I need you to understand that this isn't about Elena, or Jeremy, or Kol, or Klaus. This is about me. This is about me _doing the right thing_. Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean I have to be okay with becoming a monster." Before he could reply, she was running down the hall and out the front door, as fast as she'd run the night of the almost-battle with the hybrids. Maybe faster. This time she wasn't tracking anyone, or dodging through trees or trying to sneak up on her opponent. This was all about speed.

Like that night, there were no thoughts in her head, other than what she needed to do. Stop Kol. Stop Jeremy. Slap the ever-loving shit out of Elena. Save the souls of the people in that house. The rest—the rationalization part—would come later, when she had time to think. But right now was the time to act. She uncorked the bottle and stuck the dagger's end into the thin gray powder. Klaus could flippin' well buy a new cork, she thought in irritation as the thing slipped out of her fingers and bounced along the street.

When she hit Elena's driveway, she saw that the door was wide open, and showed signs of having been forced inward. Without stopping to wonder how Kol had gotten invited in in the first place, she aimed herself for the open door and put on a burst of speed.

In the moment when her foot crossed the threshold, her eyes caught the image in front of her, and her vampire brain processed it in precise detail. Kol had a stake in his hand, and was inches from driving it into Elena's heart. Jeremy had his hand in Kol's jacket, and was fumbling for something with a heavy silver end… the White Oak Stake. In a second, Kol was going to shift around and stab Jeremy instead, to protect himself. But that second never came.

Caroline barreled straight into him, dagger in hand, and drove it right into his heart as they fell together onto the floor. He stared at her in shock—clearly he didn't expect a third opponent—before his eyes closed and he went limp. Caroline sat on top of him for a moment, surveying her work. Sneak attacks were low, sure, but she couldn't get picky with what was at stake. Something like a massive static shock reverberated through her left hand, and she released the dagger reflexively.

"Caroline?" Elena gasped. "What… what is _wrong_ with you?" She demanded. "Jeremy was about to—" She was cut off when Caroline stood up and punched her in the face—hard.

" _What's wrong with_ _ **ME**_?" She demanded in a hoarse shout, right fist still clenched. "What the hell is wrong with YOU, Elena Gilbert?" She turned to Jeremy. "And you! You were about to slaughter tens of thousands of people— _potentially innocent_ people like your _sister_? Like your _girlfriend's mother_?" She would've gone on longer, if a sudden shudder hadn't ripped its way through her body. She gasped for air, looking down at herself. Her left hand was slate black, and her right was quickly turning gray. Her legs were going numb, her knees weakening beneath her. Her vision swam.

"No… The dagger!" Jeremy realized aloud, anger changing to horror as the blonde vampire crumpled to the floor.

Bonnie arrived about two minutes later, in response to all of Jeremy's attempts to get her over there to help with Kol. Elena was fumbling with her phone, hands white and shaking, but when she saw Bonnie had turned up on her own, she dropped the device, and ran over to fling her arms around her friend for three terrified seconds. Bonnie's eyes locked on the desiccated corpses of Kol and Caroline, and she stared in horror. No one spoke. Then Elena released her, and she ran to kneel beside Caroline, already weaving a spell.

"Is she… alive?" Elena whispered after several minutes. Bonnie nodded without pausing her rhythmic chant.

"Will she be okay?" Jeremy followed up hopefully. His girlfriend didn't respond. The intense concentration on her face told the young hunter that the answer wasn't good.

"I'm gonna call Meredith," Elena whispered after another several minutes, in which the only sound in the house that competed with Bonnie's voice was the low hum of the furnace. "Maybe she'll have some ideas that could help." Bonnie didn't stop chanting, but nodded emphatically. Elena pulled out her phone.

"What about him?" Jeremy's question hung heavily in the air, like a net of boulders suspended precariously over their heads. He and Elena looked towards the mostly-dead Original, slumped against the cabinets by the stove. He was helpless. Jeremy had the White Oak stake. But...

"If Caroline dies stopping you," Bonnie said, voice dark—as only a witch's can be, and usually only when discussing the blackest of magic— "and you go ahead and do it anyway, then she died for nothing, Jeremy."

"Is that likely?" Elena choked, voice catching.

"Too soon to say," Bonnie sighed. "But it's… it's _not un_ -likely. Let's move her to the couch."

Elena gingerly picked up Caroline's body, and laid her on the living room couch. Bonnie sat down on the coffee table, and started chanting again, eyes lightly closed. Feeling like a fifth wheel, Jeremy fetched some candles out of the kitchen drawers—stepping maliciously on Kol's body as he did so—and set them on the mantelpiece and lit them. Damn Caroline, but Bonnie was right; if they killed Kol now, and Caroline died… His affection for the blonde girl he'd known his whole life was lessened a great deal, now that he was a hunter and she was a vampire, but Bonnie would be devastated if she died. His conscience was attached to her, so he could no more bring himself to hurt her than cut off his own fingers.

Elena hung up after a long, frightened conversation with Meredith, and a short, frightened conversation with Liz Forbes, and sat down on the arm of the couch near Caroline's head. She was trying very hard not to sob loudly and interrupt Bonnie, but tears flowed down her face. Jeremy came over quietly and put his arms around his sister, and then, once again, the only sound in the house was Bonnie's chanting.

"We should give Kol's body back to Klaus," Elena finally said, hoarsely.

"What?" Jeremy demanded, releasing her so they could look at each other.

"He's already daggered, and he's not going to stay in our kitchen. Klaus isn't going to fault us for doing what he would've done himself—he wants the cure too badly to put up with Kol interfering."

Jeremy frowned, but nodded. He didn't like it, but there was no point in making enemies with Klaus—at least, not until he could get the cure and shove it down his throat.

Elena stepped out into the hall, and dialed Klaus's number. It was a strange world, she thought as she heard the other line ringing, in which she would have one of the most dangerous creatures in history in her contacts list.

"My favorite doppelganger," Klaus greeted her in a smooth hiss. "This had better be good news—I'm rather in the middle of something." Rage boiled in Elena's stomach. If Klaus had just dealt with Kol himself when she'd asked him too, then none of this would have happened.

"Kol tried to kill my brother again," she snapped. "Caroline daggered him. Come and pick up his body before someone kills it permanently." The line went silent for a moment.

"Vampires can't use the daggers…" he said quietly.

"Nope," Elena agreed, tears welling back up in her throat. "They can't." There was a click, and then nothing—Klaus had hung up. Elena stuffed her phone back into her pocket, hardly caring if he was coming or not.

Liz arrived a few minutes later, sirens blaring. She wasn't sitting in traffic or waiting for lights tonight. Meredith was right on her heels, red bag of First Responder paraphernalia slung over her shoulder. Elena returned to the couch, and knelt down near Caroline's head while the professionals did their work, praying to any spirit, deity or supernatural power that would listen to the pleas of a vampire to save her best friend's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how, in the actual episode, Stefan and Rebekah slept together, Rebekah accused him of doing it just for the dagger, Stefan was horrified, then at the not-dance, Rebekah eventually gave him the dagger to put down Kol, but actually he was supposed to have Matt dagger her? But then Stefan decides that she's on their side, so he doesn't do it? Well, in here, he makes the same call, but Rebekah puts the moves on him, and, well, S + E = X. It didn't seem like too much of a stretch, to me. I mean, what you think they did when they got back to Rebekah's house— or would have done, if she hadn't just found out her brother died.
> 
> However, one thing I know I did botch was the timeline. I know it was supposed to take a day or two for them to go from Truth-or-Dare to killing Kol, but I didn't have any original plot points to introduce in there, so I sped things up. No point in wasting your time with stuff you've already seen, I say. Next up, Worried!Klaus, and Conniving!Hayley!


	4. Powerless

Klaus was feeling rather vengeful that day. His hybrids had escaped him, Tyler was nowhere to be found, Jeremy was bloody useless, Damon was incompetent, Matt counted for less than his usual human quota of nothing, and to top it off, his idiot little brother was trying to murder everybody. He hated to admit it, but the damn moon was approaching full as well, and although his transformations weren't ruled by it, his mood was certainly affected. So, when the Original Hybrid woke up on that steely-gray Saturday, he kicked off the covers with a little extra force. Today was going to be an angry day.

Coleen and Amber had already started coffee and made his breakfast, and while Amber finished the bacon, Klaus took a long drink from Coleen's wrist. Her blood was becoming tastier, he reminded himself as he licked off the drops that had run down to her elbow and she went to bandage the wound. He'd compelled her to quit smoking about a month ago when she'd started working for him, and as her health improved, so did her flavor. Amber poured his coffee, set his plate on the table, and flashed him a winning smile as she exited the room. They certainly made the help prettier in this century, he reflected. However, good food and beautiful women were hardly enough to improve his simmering wrath.

"Sometimes I wish I could forget all the horrible things he's done…" It hadn't been a confession, not per say, but it had been an _admission_. And then she'd followed it up by saying that she _couldn't_ forget. So then, why had she bloody bothered to bloody say it in the bloody first place? Caroline's sad face as she got out of his car and stepped back into the rain was burned into his mind.

Yes, today was going to be one of those days where he killed lots and lots of people.

He got a rather boring call from a fellow whose company he'd invested in ten years back, and as the man talked animatedly about the strides they were making as a business—no doubt leading up to asking him for more money—he sketched idly on a memo pad. There would be no point in driving all the way to Virginia Beach to kill this Maxwell person for talking his ear off. That would actually be more boring than not doing it, he reflected, as he finished off a pen drawing of one of his gardeners lying beheaded in a pool of his own blood. If he killed Andrew, though, those pretty little European shrubs that he took such specialized care of would likely die, and then the grounds would look lopsided. A man's life was spared that day in the name of aesthetics, but boredom and anger and Klaus were never a good threesome, so the tense peace was unlikely to last very long.

After the drama with Kol making an ass of himself yesterday, Klaus had decided to let Jeremy alone for a day to think very carefully about who he wanted on his side. So, that meant he couldn't take him vampire-slaughtering. Boring, boring, boring day, with no one to kill and nothing do to. He drew Alexander, tongue ripped out and sword thrust through his chest into the wall, as he'd last seen him. He even got out the damn sword so he could sketch in the details more accurately. Perhaps he should paint it, he thought, as he put the sword back into his safe—the one he hid behind one of his paintings in the gallery, not the embarrassingly obvious one in the lounge. It had been a wonderfully gruesome picture, and the lighting had been just right. Of course, it wasn't like he'd gotten to enjoy the scene at the time, what with Rebekah being a drama queen and the Hunter's Curse scrambling his marbles. But now, after nine-hundred years, he'd gained some objectivity. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Perhaps he'd give it to Rebekah when it was done, as a "welcome back from your coffin—don't you wish you were still inside of it" present.

It was right about then that Stefan called him. Would he do him a favor and keep an eye on Damon in the cellar, so that he could trick the dagger out of Rebekah, to use on Kol? Klaus carefully considered his options for what to do with his time that day. Paint an old kill to upset his sister, or go torment Damon for his blasted incompetence with Hunter training.

"Oh, I think I could slot that in," he replied smoothly, putting his charcoals and paper away and hanging up the phone.

-0-

"Hate that," Hayley sighed as she stood in the middle of Klaus's gallery, staring at the paintings and drawings that filled the space. She'd thought she would have to lure him out of the house herself, but then lo and behold, whoever was on the other end of that phone half an hour ago had done her job for her.

"Too much," she drawled, pointing at another piece. The vivid oranges and pinks of the marine sunset hurt her eyes. "I don't get that," she continued, glancing at an image of a cherry tree, shedding blossoms into a river, before walking around the room so that she could view the other works and pass judgment. "I don't care… What is this guy's deal? I thought most villains got off on torturing and intimidating people, but this guy's hobby is so… _tame_."

"Focus, Hayley," Shane sighed, his voice crackling a little as Hayley's Bluetooth disagreed with Klaus's home wireless signals. Internally, he wondered if Hayley's abrasiveness was her natural state, or just something she did to protect herself emotionally… But, back to the point. "You're looking for a dark landscape with leafless trees and a silhouette of a boy," he described, looking closely at the watery picture in his Scrying glass. "And a flock of birds flying across the sky in the background."

"This one," Hayley murmured, as she located the canvas. "This one doesn't make me wanna puke."

"The safe is behind it," Shane continued. "The code is 9-23-12-11-14. Start left."

"Has it ever occurred to you," Hayley mused as she removed the painting, set it on the floor, and turned the wheel of the safe to the left until it got to the number 9, "to give up magical research and take up professional robbery? It's gotta be more lucrative…" The other line went silent for a moment.

"You may be right," was the only answer she got. That, and a cryptic little laugh deep in his throat. Hayley rolled her eyes as the safe swung open. Inside, the sword hung enshrined.

"Jackpot," she whispered.

"I assume the rest of the plan is in place?" Shane said after a moment of listening to metal clicking against metal, and then a heavy click as the safe swung back shut.

"Naturally," Hayley assured him. "Klaus wasn't exactly subtle about his hybrid activities last summer, and that made for plenty of scared, upset vampires. I had already set a contingency plan in motion while I was working with the hybrids. Twelve vampires have gathered outside of town, waiting for me to turn up with a way to kill him. Thanks to the endless mystique and mythology surrounding Originals, they'll buy into just about anything. Anyway, the guy who owned this sword was the most powerful vampire hunter in history. It's not too much of a stretch to believe that his sword could kill any vampire on earth."

"No, it certainly is not," Shane agreed, nodding, although she couldn't see him.

"All I gotta do is deliver the sword, then get the hell outta' dodge," Hayley finished, turning to leave the gallery, leaving the painting on the floor. The point was to get Klaus to _notice_ the theft, after all. She considered taking it with her, but didn't really want to carry the big thing around while running for her life from the Original Hybrid that she was about to _royally_ piss off. There was something wonderfully… _twisted_ about it.

-0-

The call came from Andrew, and aesthetics and expensive European shrubs saved the unfortunate gardener's life for the second time in one day as he delivered bad news. As he drove up the street on his way to work that day, he'd seen someone walking out the side door, carrying the sword. She'd gotten into her car and driven off, heading down the gravel road towards the undeveloped forest area.

"You will stay where you are," Klaus snarled into Damon's face, eyes darkening with compulsion. Then he sped out the door. As he'd thought this morning, today was going to be one of those days where he killed _lots and lots of people_ …

-0-

The sun was beginning to set as Klaus entered the forest, and on any other evening, he might've paused, taken a picture to paint it later. But tonight, he was on a blood mission.

They were mere ordinary vampires, the fools who had dared to take what was his. They ambushed him where the trees were thickest, and after he'd fought with a handful of them, one—their leader, so far as he could tell, not that it mattered—came at him with the sword. A piece of metal was hardly a threat to an Original. He wasn't sure if their apparent delusion was funny or just really irritating. He settled for irritating when one of them jabbed a stake into his side. The vampire lost his arm, and fell to the ground, wailing.

He made short work of two more of them, removing head from one and heart from the other in the blink of an eye. The one-armed vamp got smart and turned to run, but he was leaving a trail of blood that even a blind human could follow. The one with the sword swung again, and he dodged, moving in to trap the fool's arm, but before he could reach far enough, two more of them grabbed him from behind. He stomped down on the foot of the one on his left, and then jabbed upwards with his elbow, knocking the idiot's head back and snapping his neck. He ripped the heart out of the one on his right, and turned to finish off the one on the ground, but a ragged woman's scream distracted him, and then he was fighting the one with his sword again. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, a woman with blood all down her face and chest grabbed the limp body of the temporarily dead vampire, and sped off into the forest with him. No matter. He'd be able to hunt them down in a moment.

The leader stabbed at him, and he grabbed the sword by the blade, sidestepped, and grabbed him by the throat. But, before he could shoot out some menacing parting words, the vampire spat in his face. He lost his head exactly one second later.

Klaus pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, wiped the blood and saliva off his face, and the blood and dirt off his hands. He picked up the sword, ascertained that it hadn't been damaged in the fight, and then turned to go after the three who'd escaped. That was when his phone rang.

Ordinarily, he wouldn't have bothered picking up while he was busy doing murder, but it was Elena's number, and she wouldn't call him unless something was really wrong with, probably with Jeremy, most likely to do with Kol, and if that was the case, then he really did need to know about it.

"My favorite doppelganger," he said as he hit the green button to answer the call. "This had better be good news—I'm rather in the middle of something."

"Kol tried to kill my brother again," Elena snapped without preamble. "Caroline daggered him." The world stopped. Maybe it was just Klaus's heart—he wasn't sure.

"Come and pick up his body before someone kills it permanently," she finished. It was a moment before Klaus could wrap his head around what he'd heard. Kol was in the hands of his enemies. That was bad. And...

"Vampires can't use the daggers…" he whispered. Not without dying themselves. Surely Caroline knew that. Surely somebody had thought to tell her, what with the number of them floating around town! How could she not have known? His spine was freezing, like someone was pouring ice water down the back of his shirt.

"Nope," Elena snapped back, voice trembling, and confirming his worst fears. "They can't."

-0-

After the "click" of Klaus abruptly disconnecting, the next Elena heard from him was about ten minutes later when his tires screeched to a halt by the curb in front of her house. A car door slammed, and then within a split second, a fist was banging on the front door. When Jeremy opened it, Klaus's fist was still upraised.

"Let me in," he snarled without preamble. Jeremy opened his mouth to retort, but Elena cut him off, sounding exhausted.

"Just let him in, Jer," she sighed. "Kol's body is in the kitchen," she added, jerking a thumb in that direction.

"Come in," Jeremy growled quietly. Klaus strode across the threshold, towards the kitchen, but never got past the living room. Liz Forbes was standing by the television, face red, eyes streaming. She looked up for a moment, and they made eye-contact briefly before she looked back down. Elena was kneeling by one of the couch's arms, jaw tight, fists clenched on her knees. She had also been crying. Bonnie was sitting on the coffee table, chanting, while Meredith leaned over the couch, face mostly hidden by its back.

Like water running down a windshield, Klaus found himself moving towards the couch without ever consciously deciding to change direction. The first thing he saw was her hair—one gold braid of it, hanging off the side of the couch. Then her shoulder came into view, her elbow, her knee, and some part of his mind tried to tell him that she was just being a dramatic little fool—until he got close enough to see the exposed skin of her face. It was greyed out, but not completely desiccated; the flesh was still smooth. Her right hand was in the same condition, but her left was charred completely black, and her index finger was little less than blackened bone. There were trails and drops of silver running across her hand. With horror, Klaus realized that her daylight ring had melted.

"The ring seems to have taken some of the damage," Liz said, voice rough but steady. The woman was a police officer. Reporting bad news was a long-practiced art. "Bonnie figures that's why she's still alive. But… not by much."

It was the strangest thing, looking down at Caroline's prone form on Elena's couch, seeing her hover on the edge of death… again. The last time, she'd been lying in her own bed, surprisingly lucid for the victim of a hybrid bite. The last time, he had simply needed to make up with Stefan, take back a move in their deadly game before it was too late.

The last time, it had been within his power to save her.

But this time, helplessness was settling into his joints, hanging heavily from the tips of his fingers, thrumming uncomfortably through his heart, and making his insides churn. Bonnie's chanting hadn't changed in pitch or speed since he'd first walked in. He knew enough about witchcraft not to distract her. Her best friend was at death's door—she was already doing whatever she could. Meredith was putting away her flashlight and blood-pressure meter. There weren't a lot of doctors who knew anything about vampires, so she was the best they were going to get. There was no enemy he could slaughter, no one he could threaten, not a thing in the world that he could do to change what was playing out in front of him.

"Why… the _hell_ … would she do that?" Klaus demanded in a voice that shook with a combination of cold fear and hot rage. He glared at Jeremy. "You're as human as they come—why would you let her be the one to use the dagger, knowing that she would be killed by it?" He was a breath away from ripping Jeremy's idiot head off, and Elena's too, for good measure. He had to remind himself of how vital they were to fulfilling his damned thousand-year dream.

"He was trying to kill Jeremy when she got here," Elena explained, sniffing hard and standing up to defend her brother. "She just… ran in and stabbed him…" She gestured helplessly towards the kitchen. "I'm not sure she even remembered that she wasn't supposed to use it." She was clearly holding back more tears.

"AND HOW THE _BLOODY HELL_ DID KOL GET _IN_ HERE IN THE _FIRST PLACE_?" Klaus demanded, the volume of his shout making Elena take a step back. Meredith jumped and gasped.

"Hey!" Liz bellowed, in her best police-officer-breaking-up-a-riot snap. "If you two are going to argue, take it outside—people are trying to concentrate here." Her eyes were molten steel. This woman clearly wasn't about to put up with the possibility of any more adverse effects to her child because the people around her couldn't control their emotions. Elena looked back over at the Sheriff, face apologetic. Klaus stalked into the kitchen, picked up Kol's body, and carried it to his SUV, dumping it in the trunk. He could deal with the little idiot later, after all of the Silas insanity was over.

"She's still circulating, a little bit," Meredith announced as Klaus returned to the house. "Her pulse is very low, but, still present. I need to rig her up an IV drip, since she can't drink blood. But as far as reviving her… I'm not even sure where to start. Frankly, I'd like to get her into a hospital, but I doubt that's going to work out too well."

"What if I converted a wing of my manor into a clinic?" Klaus said quietly, surprising himself. Although it was a pitiful gesture, in the grand scheme of things, it was quite literally all he could do, and it might help assuage the helplessness torturing him over this. Meredith and Liz both looked at him as he continued speaking. "I can have whatever equipment you need delivered by tomorrow, and get anyone you need to assist you. My staff could monitor her condition around the clock, and no one would happen upon her. All of the windows are double-paned and tempered. UV rays can't penetrate, so she'll be in no danger without her ring." There was a brief pause where Meredith processed both the fact that he was standing there interacting with them in a normal voice, and his offer.

"I could work with that," she responded, looking over her shoulder at Liz.

"We'd appreciate it," Liz agreed with a nod.

Elena gently carried Caroline into Klaus's SUV, and laid her across the very back seat, using her own legs as a pillow. Liz took shotgun, and Meredith and Bonnie sat in the middle. It was a very surreal drive to the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus spent the entire trip speeding dangerously and conversing on his cell phone with many different parties. Liz was so absorbed in her concern for Caroline that she didn't call him out on either violation. By the time they reached the brick driveway, the Hybrid had ordered a powerful microscope, which Meredith specifically described, ultrasound equipment, dialysis equipment, an MRI machine, and several other machines that Elena wasn't familiar with. Everything was state of the art, everything was a rush order, and everyone was promised large sums of money for getting it to the house in record time.

Apparently, money talked louder than compulsion, in some cases, because by the time Elena had gently laid Caroline out in one of Klaus's guest beds and Meredith had gotten an IV drip of blood going into her arm (and Kol was safely stowed away in his coffin in the basement) the first of the delivery trucks had arrived. To Klaus's everlasting credit, he did indeed pay the top dollars he'd promised, and only compelled the delivery people and various installation techs to forget the specifics about where they'd brought the machinery. He also got a few unfamiliar vampire lackeys to help move furniture in the room next to Caroline's, which was designated as Meredith's lab.

Throughout the entire car ride, Bonnie had continued chanting, and when Klaus returned from overseeing the lab, he found her and Elena carefully wiping off the again-liquefied metal of Caroline's daylight ring.

"Any luck?" he asked after watching for a few moments in silence.

"Not much," Bonnie responded heavily. "She won't die today, or next week, I made sure of that, but beyond that point, it's anyone's guess. Vampires and magic don't mix; if I overdo it, I'll only make it worse."

"She'll be okay," Elena said firmly, standing up and looking Klaus in the eyes with a flicker of hope in her own. "She's already survived so many things… we have to have faith that she'll survive this too. She's a lot tougher than she looks." A ghost of a smile touched her lips for an instant, and then she flitted out to dispose of the rags soaked in cool-melted metal. Klaus was left wondering if the semi-famous Elena Gilbert Optimism was comforting or just highly irritating.

-0-

"I take it nine dead vampires isn't enough for whatever creepy-ass juju you're cooking up," Hayley sighed heavily as she stared into Professor Shane's very expensive Scrying Ball, marveling at the fact that someone who didn't practice magic seemed to have so many items and artifacts to do it for him. Three vampires had escaped Klaus's wrath, and all because of that ridiculous Caroline Forbes. Again. "Is it just me, or has that small-town cheerleader _accidentally_ prevented the second massacre... _twice_ now?"

"It's not just you," Shane responded flatly, his fingertips pressed together, his elbows resting on the desk. "I thought I told you to keep her out of the way."

"I thought Kol going ballistic and threatening half the people she knew would be enough to keep her out of the way," Hayley shot back, flinging her hands into the air. "Who knew that news of her martyring herself—again—would get to him so soon? I didn't count on Elena calling him in to pick up Kol's body—I thought Jeremy would go ahead and kill him anyway."

Shane's eyebrows were drawn low over his eyes in concern. "Klaus would be so much more useful to me as a supernatural loose-cannon if she was out of the picture. His budding feelings for her are keeping his beast nature in check. Once she dies, he'll most likely snap, and go back to being an excellent pawn."

"Wow," Hayley murmured, turning back to the professor, her plotting face on. "Not really living up to your usual standards, are you Shane?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, looking up at her.

"She might be keeping him under control, but she's also his weakness," Hayley explained, like she was walking a four-year-old through basic addition. "You need him to kill people, right? Without showing mercy or letting any escape?"

"So," Shane breathed, catching on, "twelve vampires need to band together to kill _her_."

"If she doesn't die on her own, first," Hayley commented dryly, looking back at the image of Caroline's gray skin and burnt hand. "I thought you said those daggers spelled instant death for any vampire that uses them."

"They're supposed too," he responded. "The power feedback overloads them—a lot like sunlight. Historically, anyone who's tried it turned to ash. But, historically, daylight rings are a rare and coveted item. This is probably the first time that a daywalker has used a dagger, since neither are exactly common."

"So, there's really no way to know if she'll survive," Hayley said coolly.

"Well," Shane said in a slow, thoughtful voice, "now that I think about it, there would be _one_ surefire way for her to survive."

"And what's that?" Hayley asked. Shane's lips curved upward into a smirk.

"All the leverage we need to get Klaus to want the same thing we do," he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are told repeatedly in seasons 2 and 3 that if a vampire uses the dagger, "the dagger will claim both lives." A vampire cannot dagger an Original without dying. However, we never see anyone do it, and aren't told how the death happens. So, I took creative license with the details.
> 
> In case anyone's squinting hard at the names and wondering, Coleen and Amber are OC's, so no, you're not supposed to know who they are! You may remember the women in gold tops and black mini-skirts that run around Klaus's mansion pouring drinks and letting him feed on them? Yeah, these two are some of those. Incidentally, there are six of them: Coleen, Amber, Monica, Hazel, Linda and Vera. (It'll get weird if I just keep saying "the girls" or something; thus, they have names!) He's got two sets of personal staff: professionals, like his chef, his gardeners, his janitor etc… and eye/fang-candy, who also double as waitresses and errand girls.
> 
> Next up, Jeremy gets his head out of his ass, and Shane puts another plan into motion…


	5. To Save a Life

Trisha's throat was paralyzed, and panic constricted her lungs. The man had told her not to scream, but why couldn't she? Every muscle in her body was straining to escape, to fight off her attacker, but she couldn't move. He'd told her not to move. His eyes were deep black, and rimmed with huge red veins, and he held onto her with an iron grip. This had to be a dream, she thought wildly. She hadn't left the house that night to buy cigarettes, she hadn't walked past the gaping mouth of a dark alley, and she hadn't stopped to talk to the charming stranger who emerged from the gloom. This was a nightmare. Any moment now, she'd wake up in her own bed, in her crummy little Chicago apartment, safe and sound, with the only person near her being her sister, doing homework in the next room. This couldn't really be happening.

Denial got her as far as the part where he actually bit her—fangs jabbing cruelly into her neck. Then all she could think was "GET AWAY, GET AWAY, GETHIMOFFOFMEGETAWAYGETAWAAAAAY!" But she still couldn't scream. He'd told her not too.

Just when she started to feel light-headed, and knew she was done-for, her attacker froze. Literally, there was a jolt of impact, and then his whole body stiffened. The fangs retracted from her neck, and he fell backwards onto the alley floor, hands still upraised to hold onto her, teeth still extended. It was hard to tell in the dim city lighting at that time of night, but the veins that stood out in his face now seemed to cover his entire body. He'd fallen onto his side, and a heavy wooden post was sticking out of his back. What the…?

"Hey, are you okay?" Trisha looked up at her rescuers for the first time. Two men stood there—well, more like a young man and a teenager. The teenager knelt down beside her and looked at her neck in concern. He had shaggy brown hair and a nice, open face, although his worried expression made him look rather older than his features allowed.

"Got you good, didn't he?" The other man observed, stepping around the weird, veiny corpse like he did this every day. He had black hair, blue eyes, and a leather jacket and boots to complete his mysterious-bad-boy aura. "Well, nothing a good night's sleep and some iron tablets won't cure. It's okay," he added soothingly as Trisha started to hyperventilate. The shock was wearing off, and her head was spinning. The teenager helped her to her feet. His hands were reassuringly steady.

"You're gonna go home," the black-haired man said, looking deep into her eyes. She was rooted to the spot again—why did this keep happening? "You're gonna forget you were attacked. You're gonna bandage your neck up and drink some orange juice, have a nice big dinner, and wear a scarf for a few days to cover that up."

Trisha nodded, picked up her purse, and stumbled out of the alleyway, towards her apartment. Jeremy bent down and yanked the stake out of the vampire's back. They left the corpse where it lay—Chicago was the most violent city in the country, and was home to many of the most violent vampires. The creatures of the night had their own systems for disposing of dead vampires, and the trail of drained bodies that they tended to leave behind. The sun would be up soon, and the majority of Chicago's vampires would be hunkering down for the day. Hunting season was over until the next evening.

"How far is it?" Damon asked as they headed back to Stefan's old apartment. Damon had been surprised to learn that it was Klaus who had paid its rent the last ninety years. He'd done it for nostalgia, he said; he hoped that one day, he'd reunite with the Ripper of Monterey. And so, the place had lain untouched for decades, except for the brief time when Damon had brought Elena there the previous summer. Now, Damon and Jeremy used it as a home base.

Jeremy pulled the collar of his shirt aside, and stared at the exposed flesh, stubbornly blank and unmarked to Damon's eyes.

"About here," he said, touching a spot just below his collarbone. "It won't be long now—maybe another couple of days, at this rate, unless we find another nest."

"Good work, little Gilbert," Damon said, with equal parts sarcasm and sincerity. After a month of running around dark alleys and hanging around the back doors of disreputable clubs, they were finally coming close to completing Jeremy's Hunter's Mark. Granted, the whole permanently-kill-Kol idea would have been faster, but, well, Caroline…

When they got back to the apartment, Jeremy hopped in the shower, and Damon lay down on the couch and dug out his phone. Six-thirty wasn't too early to call Elena—she'd be heading to school in less than an hour, so it wasn't like she was asleep.

"Good morning," she greeted him as she answered the phone.

"Good night, actually," he said with a light laugh. "I've been keeping your baby bro up all night again."

"You're such a bad influence," Elena responded with a laugh of her own. "How is he?"

"Still a compulsive do-gooder," Damon listed, "still killing vampires, still has invisible tattoos. I guess it's almost to his neck now—he figures it'll be ready pretty soon."

"That's great!" Elena exclaimed. "I hope you guys get finished soon. I miss you…" she admitted softly. Damon smiled sadly.

"Not as much as I'm missing you right now," he responded.

"Vomit!" Jeremy called from the bathroom. He'd turned the water off without Damon noticing.

"Tell him I said 'Hi,'" Elena said, embarrassment coloring her tone.

"Will do," Damon assured her. "I better let you go—wouldn't want to make you late for school. _Again_ ," he added in a suggestive whisper.

"See you soon, Damon," Elena replied, and he could hear her smile, although he couldn't see it.

Elena disconnected, and stuffed her phone back into her pocket, still smiling. She'd needed some good news. It had been an emotionally exhausting month. To start with, Bonnie was spread incredibly thin. She still spent almost all of her free time either with that creepy professor Shane, or doing heavy-duty magic on Caroline. The council was still cracking down on vampires, so Stefan was back on animal blood, and Elena had to drive more than an hour out of town to get blood bags. The water system still had vervain running through it, so she had to use the showers at the Salvatore House, although she didn't usually stay over. It was still pretty awkward between her and Stefan, and to compound matters, she'd found out that he was sleeping with Rebekah.

Caroline was steadily getting worse.

Meredith had set up an office for herself adjacent to the lab, so the place was beginning to look legitimately like a small clinic. Of course, clinics didn't usually have Queen-sized beds with silk sheets and fancy headboards—and they certainly never had velvet bed curtains. But one clinic-ey thing the place did have were the three nurses working directly under Meredith; Klaus had managed somehow to find three trained Mystic Falls nurses of the paranoid-germaphobe-only-ever-drinks-bottled-water variety, and compelled them to take some time off and come work for him instead, to look after Caroline. He certainly wasn't sparing any expense or effort.

A strange truce existed in the Eastern wing of Klaus's mansion, although it didn't spread as far as the living room, and apparently stopped at the door to the wine cellar as well. The East-side door was always unlocked—at least, it always was when Elena came to visit Caroline, which she did every day. She'd heard somewhere that comatose people could sometimes hear what people around them said, and she wanted her friend to know that she wasn't alone, and that there was still hope.

Even if Meredith _did_ say that she only had a week, at the most, before she died.

Caroline was so amazingly strong, Elena reasoned, and she'd survived so many things before. If she hadn't died from this yet, then that had to be a good sign. So, every day after school, she'd come over and sit by her bedside. She'd hold her hand, and talk about school, about Stefan, about how Rebekah was planning the sixties dance, and edging her way into the prom committee, and wouldn't Caroline please wake up soon and take charge? The Original blonde was going to be a nightmare if she got to plan prom…

"Your mom's got everyone believing that you were in a car crash," Elena told her on one of the first days, as she pulled her blonde hair gently out of its braids and brushed it smooth. "She wrote up a fake report and everything. We didn't even have to compel anyone. Not that we could, with vervain in the water supply. I have to go to Damon's to shower. The Salvatores, Rebekah's house and this place are the only buildings in town with fancy Richie-rich water filtration systems. Did you know Stefan was sleeping with Rebekah? Actually, I guess you did—Matt said you were at the school that day…" That was right about when she'd dissolved into tears, and Damon—who'd still been in town at the time, had come in and held her. Elena didn't even know how to say how sorry she was, about the whole damn thing with Kol.

Jeremy came too, early on, before he left town to complete his mark the long-but-discerning way. Meredith had Caroline rigged up to a complete life support system, with machined delivering light shocks to her heart to keep it beating, and a mask over her face and into her throat to breathe for her. It had been Jeremy who insisted that the blonde vampire was not, in fact, dead already, which she did seem to be, that day.

"If she was dead, I'd be able to see her ghost on the Other Side," he'd explained, and Elena had almost cried with relief then too.

Bonnie was there almost every day, and Klaus had hired another witch—Terry—to come in and do similar spell sessions. Bonnie would sit and chant for an hour, minimum, sometimes channeling Terry, sometimes working alone. Afterwards, she'd do the same as Elena; sit there and give Caroline a play-by-play of the latest high school drama, the latest tricks Shane had been teaching her, the funny conversation they'd had about whether or not it was in fact possible to brew up a workable love potion, and anything else that occurred to the young Bennett witch to say.

"I need you back here, Care," she said one day, after she'd noticed Klaus silently watching her work magic from the doorway. "You need to wake up and translate Klaus for me—he's making less sense than usual without you around to balance things out. I think he's pretty worried about you too…"

Stefan turned up often too, although he never stayed long in Caroline's room. He'd talk to her for a while, usually when he thought nobody else was listening, and complain about how hard it was to go through life without murdering anybody. He even talked about Rebekah, sometimes, although never when there was any chance of being caught by the Original in question. Klaus heard, though, from his studio, and he'd pause in his painting to smirk at some of the things Stefan would admit. He wasn't sure if the candidness was because it was Caroline, or just because he secretly believed she couldn't hear a word of it.

As for himself… At first, he never entered her room, not after that first day when they'd set the place up. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, when she seemed so, well, _dead_. And he felt like it was a special kind of desperate to talk to a dead body—he would know, having said things to his siblings while they lay daggered. It felt foolish and sentimental. Elena liked to say that sometimes her vitals seemed to improve after someone had been in to see her, but Klaus knew too much about statistics to believe that.

However, as the weeks went by, with few and sparse communications from Damon and Jeremy, and the feeling of powerlessness from that first night coming back and overwhelming him, he started to find excuses to go into that hallway, into the lab, and finally into the room itself.

Early on, Elena had taken out Caroline's braids and gently brushed her hair. It fanned out softly across her pillow in waves. Her face was blank and peaceful, and her hands rested at her sides. Her left hand was covered in bandages and wires and some kind of magical herbal ointment. If it wasn't for the IV-drip of blood going into her right arm, and the wires running out from under her shirt connecting her to the machines that displayed her faint vital signs, he'd have thought she was dead and laid out for her funeral. That was one of the reasons he'd avoided coming in; avoided looking at her too closely.

He inhaled, and then breathed out slowly through his nose. Sitting there in an armchair beside her bed, watching her die, he couldn't remember why he'd come in in the first place. However, with that thought in his head, he couldn't get up and leave either. What was the point of realizing how much he cared about her, if this was how it was going to end?

He didn't know if his tears were of grief or frustration, but whatever their source, they began leaking silently down his face. It was late, and no one would be coming in here for another few hours; not until one of the nurses emerged from the lab for her nightly check. No one could see him cry. Still, he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands like he was hiding. There was no one to be angry at here—no werewolf rage to hide behind. All he had in that moment was a deep ache in his chest, so intense that he could barely breathe from the pain of it.

It took a long while for him to get a hold of himself enough to stand up and leave. Pride straightened his spine and moved his feet, one in front of the other, before the nurse could enter and find him in that state. He lay awake in his bed that night, waiting futilely for sleep to ease his distress.

After that, he came and visited her more often, although he usually waited until he knew no one would see. He didn't usually speak, because the fact that she couldn't speak back would open the floodgates of his emotions again. Her fearless banter and sharp, instant replies were one of her most endearing qualities, in his opinion, and he missed the sound of her voice.

He tried a few times to enter her dreams and contact her spirit, though. He knew Elena and Stefan had both tried as well. It wasn't any use. All any of them got was a powerful rush of thirst, a terrible burning in their left hands, and a strange, intense feeling of vertigo. He'd stuck it out once, in the middle of the night, although he would never admit it to anyone. He'd sat there and fought through the pain for hours, but he never got as much as one iota deeper into her mind. It was indescribably frustrating, to have her lying there, alive and dead at the same time, with not a thing in the world that anyone could do about it.

When Elena arrived at Klaus's house late that evening, to tell Caroline the good news that Jeremy and Damon would be back in a few days, she found the Hybrid sitting beside her friend. It was the first time she'd caught him actually inside the room since the first day when they'd been setting everything up, and she paused in the doorway, not sure if he should know she'd seen him. But, then again, it wasn't like he couldn't hear her coming.

"Any word from the dynamic duo?" He asked as she crossed the threshold.

"Damon called me this morning," she responded, setting her purse down on the end table. "He said the mark is nearly at Jeremy's neck—they figure it should only be a few more days."

"Remind me to send over a bottle champagne," Klaus sighed, "as a token of appreciation that they succeeded in performing a simple task correctly, for once." Elena bit her tongue. There was no point to getting into it with him right now, especially when they were finally _not_ constantly trying to murder each other.

"How is she?" she asked instead, moving to sit in the chair on the other side of the bed.

"No change," he said, but Elena's eyes fell on the computer displays. The records of her vitals showed a slight weakening over the last twelve hours. It was _very_ slight, but they were already so weak… She made eye-contact with Klaus for a moment, then nodded. Neither of them was about to admit that she was getting worse.

"Bonnie mentioned another spell that she was thinking of trying," she announced hopefully. "I guess she's picking Shane's brain today about the specifics. Do you know if Terry's coming tomorrow?"

"If Bonnie needs her, she'll be here," he replied flatly. Of course, for what he was paying the witch for her help and her silence, it wasn't really a stretch for him to expect her to be on-call at a moment's notice.

Elena was spared the need to find another conversational topic when the front door opened below them, and several sets of hushed footsteps entered the house.

"Now," Klaus breathed, "what suicidal idiots are those, I wonder…" With a faint whoosh of air, he was gone. Elena jumped up and followed him, although she stopped at the top of the stairs, peering around the corner of the hallway.

Six people stood in the entryway, and when Klaus appeared among them, they didn't hesitate, but came at him from all sides. Elena gasped in surprise. They were vampires, obviously, and pretty strong ones, at that. Klaus was holding his own, of course, but they were managing to get a few jabs in here and there, and some of the blood splattering on the polished tile was his. Two of them peeled off and ran up the stairs, and Elena jumped out as they got to her, throwing one back down to the ground floor, and grappling with the other. What was going on?

Klaus ripped the heart from the man Elena had thrown, and in almost the same instant was at the top, pulling the last one off of her. He slammed the guy into the wall, holding him by the throat.

"Who are you," he demanded in a snarl, "and what are you doing in my house?" Before the man could even answer, however, Elena's sharp ears picked up more sets of quiet footsteps. Footsteps coming from the East wing.

"No… Caroline!" she exclaimed, taking off and dashing back into her friend's bedroom.

Elena didn't have time to wonder why six more vampires were in the room, or what they wanted with Caroline, or why they'd sent so many people to deal with one unconscious girl. By the time she was in visual range, she could see one of them—a woman—about to jam a stake into Caroline's heart. All she had time to do was act.

Two of the intruders blocked her path, but she yanked the leg off of a little wooden table in the hallway and flung it at the stake-wielder like a javelin. It pierced right through her heart, and she fell to the floor at the same time as the vase full of flowers the table had held crashed to the floor, shattering into innumerable shining crystal pieces. The five remaining vampires turned on her, but the one closest suddenly lost his head, and before Elena could turn around to see what Klaus was throwing, two more had followed suit and crumpled to the carpet, decapitated. Of the final two, one charged at Elena, who grabbed another table leg, shifting into the ready stance Alaric had taught her. The last one made a dash for the window, but Klaus was faster, catching up to him and ripping off one of his legs so that he fell to the floor howling. Yanking him up by the hair, Klaus sank his fangs into the man's neck, delivering a lethal dose of poison. The screams of his companion distracted Elena's opponent for a millisecond, and that was all she needed to drive the makeshift stake into his chest.

"Now," Klaus growled, fangs still extended, eyes still glowing gold. "Your pal on the stairs didn't answer my questions fast enough, and lost his head for it. You're all on vervain, apparently, but now you've got werewolf venom in you, and my blood is the only cure. So." He crouched down to the injured vampire's level, and looked him right in the eye. _"What are you doing in my house?"_

"He… he said…" the vampire whimpered, clutching at his infected neck. "He said that… if we killed her… he would get us daylight rings. He said… you wouldn't be home… It wasn't… it wasn't supposed to be like this…" he sobbed, his whole body trembling. "Please…" he begged. "I… I'll tell you anything you want! Just please… please… don't kill me…"

"Who offered you the rings?" Klaus asked conversationally.

"Th-the professor… Shane, yeah… that's it. Professor Shane." Elena felt like somebody had just emptied a bucket of ice water over her head. What? Bonnie's mentor… _WHAT_?

"Please…" the vampire sniveled pathetically.

"I see," Klaus said softly. Then he reached into the man's chest, and crushed his heart with one twist of his fingers. Elena didn't scream. She was becoming a little too accustomed to death.

-0-

Shane was just packing up his things to leave his office for the night when he heard a hiss of air, and felt a terrifyingly strong hand around his throat. His feet left the floor as he was slammed onto his desk.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here and now," Klaus snarled down at him. Shane had rather expected this, after he saw Ian's confession in his scrying glass an hour or so ago.

"Because," he responded simply, " _I know how to save Caroline's life._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Klaus finally committed the second massacre—aided by none other than Elena! Who saw THAT one coming? Bwahahaha…
> 
> But wait! What is the mad professor planning now?!


	6. A Long Expected Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I do not own an "Aramaic to English dictionary, purchased using the magic of the internet from your nearest retailer," and Google Translate doesn't offer Aramaic as an option, all words and phrases supposed to be said in Aramaic will be bolded and placed inside {Brackets.} Although, I would like to note that Quetsiya is Greek, according to the flashback later in the show, so I don't see why her native language is Aramaic and not Greek? Am I missing something here?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

The clouds parted to let the sun beat down on the Virginia Beach Airport on the cold January day when Jeremy and Damon's plane landed back in their home state. The two guys picked up their checked baggage, and ignored the funny looks from the airport employees who had seen what was inside Jeremy's duffel. Hey, at least he hadn't tried to bring his vampire-hunting weapons on the plane. Damon grinned and waved at the employees, sending two of them into a swoon, and Jeremy just shook his head, slinging the bag over his shoulder and heading out into the parking lot.

Bonnie had texted him to say that they were there, and after a little looking around and texting back and forth, they located a vampire, a witch, and…

"My car!" Damon exclaimed blissfully, bypassing Elena and Bonnie and putting a reverent hand on the blue paint. "Oooooh, have I missed you…"

"Hey!" Elena exclaimed in mock irritation as she finished hugging her brother and turned to find her boyfriend completely ignoring her. Bonnie and Jeremy both laughed as Damon turned back to Elena and swept her off her feet.

"Oh my god," Bonnie gasped as she stretched up on tip-toes to kiss Jeremy and caught a glimpse down his shirt collar. "I can see it!" Sure enough, the black tattoo stood out prominently against Jeremy's Caucasian skin.

"Yeah," Jeremy said with a grin, hugging Bonnie briefly and then releasing her to open the top button of his shirt and show off a few inches of the mystical mark. "Last night, as Damon and I were finishing off a nest down in the South Side, all of a sudden it just kind of stung, all over, and then Damon was looking at me all weirdly. It just became visible all of a sudden. I guess that's how you tell it's done. Damon said…" But he trailed off, and he and Bonnie looked over at the two vampires.

"You can quit making out with my sister in public now," he announced witheringly. Elena and Damon hadn't yet stopped kissing. Bonnie sighed.

"Let's just head back to Mystic," she said as Elena pulled away from Damon, blushing awkwardly, and Damon glared at Jeremy, completely unabashed. "Then we can get the sword, and decode the tattoo."

Elena pulled Damon's car keys out of her pocket, dangled them in front of him, and then enclosed them quickly in her fist, sticking out her tongue as she climbed into the driver's seat. Damon grimaced.

"Shotgun," he grumbled. Jeremy and Bonnie climbed in the back, and without further ado, they were on their way back to the supernatural capital of the state.

-0-

" _She's dying because she used a dagger that vampires can't use, right?" Shane was having trouble speaking around Klaus's hand on his throat, but he kept his voice admirably steady. Klaus's eyes narrowed. He'd only asked the question in the first place because he wanted to hear the man beg and plead and bargain for his life—after driving for over an hour to get to the Whitmore campus, he didn't want to just kill him quickly and then drive all the way home. But this was a troubling development. True, he didn't really want the man to have a good reason to stay alive, but he_ did _really want a way to save Caroline's life… He let go, and drew back a step. It wasn't like the human could bolt._

" _Keep talking," he hissed, flexing his fingers, wishing they were still around Shane's throat. Shane coughed a few times, leaning back against his desk for support._

-0-

"Sorry," Bonnie sighed as she walked slowly around Jeremy, taking pictures of his shirtless body—er, of his massive tattoo. "If there was a less awkward way to do this…"

"It doesn't bother me," he said. They stood off in a corner of the Salvatores' living room, while the others—Stefan, Damon, Elena, Klaus, Rebekah and Shane—sat on the couches and chairs, drinking Bourbon and looking at the sword, which Klaus had brought and laid on the table.

"So," Stefan listed, "we have the tattoo, we have the sword, and we have the tombstone—"

"Which you stole out of my office," Shane reminded him, looking moderately irritated.

"After we got high on your witch-dope," Rebekah clarified, "and killed the other wanker who tried to make off with the thing…"

"Actually, we just tortured him," Stefan admitted. "Technically he committed suicide."

"It there a point to this fascinating confessional?" Klaus drawled.

"Wait," Elena exclaimed. "Look at this!" She'd been studying the sword closely, and under her searching fingers, a leather covering that had bound and cushioned the hilt of the sword curled away, exposing the complex carvings beneath. Everyone gathered around, Jeremy pulling on a T-shirt quickly before rejoining the group.

-0-

" _To break it down and make it simpler," Shane explained, still massaging his neck, "she's dying because she's a vampire. If she stopped being a vampire, then the rebound from the dagger shouldn't have any effect on her."_

" _The cure," Klaus realized aloud._

-0-

"It's a cryptex," Elena breathed, turning the end and watching the symbols line up in different ways.

"How do _you_ know that?" Rebekah demanded snottily.

"It's from the DaVinci code," Bonnie admitted before Elena could get into it with the Original. "So then, the symbols on the sword correspond to the symbols in the tattoo. This should be easy."

"Easy?" Damon asked skeptically. "What language is this even in?"

"Aramaic," Rebekah supplied, looking at it more closely. "I guess Quetsiya's descendants were rather the traditional sort."

" **{Now, if only you knew someone who spoke Aramaic,}"** Klaus mused softly, and everyone looked at him in confusion, except for Rebekah, who rolled her eyes.

"Show-off," she grumbled. "Mine's a bit rusty—read the damn thing already, will you?" Klaus shook his head a little sadly at his sister's deteriorating language skills, but took the sword from Elena and twisted the end of the hilt around.

"The passage inside…" he read slowly, translating as he went, "requires a hunter in full bloom."

"Present!" Jeremy said, raising a hand, and Bonnie grinned and wacked him on the arm to be quiet. He laughed as Klaus turned the cryptex once to the right. The words were faded with age—it was hard to make them out.

" **{Silas rests on the far side—the means of his destruction are at hand,}"** he read haltingly before repeating the words in English, echoed by Rebekah, who was beginning to recall the language now that she was hearing it. Alexander must not have known what his sword was really for—otherwise the brute would have kept the thing in better condition.

"Warning: Silas's Burial Chamber contains Silas," Damon announced. Klaus turned the cryptex again—to the left this time.

" **{The top of the hilt reveals the key to a nautical map…}"** As Rebekah translated the phrase for the young people, Klaus fiddled with the top of the hilt. Sure enough, as it turned, different pieces of metal stuck out like a fancy compass.

-0-

" _I can lead you to it," Shane offered. "I've_ _been to the island. I've seen the cave."_

" _The tattoo can lead me to the island," Klaus countered. "You still haven't given me any reason to need you to keep breathing."_

" _Oh," Shane assured him, "trust me—it's better for you to let me lead you there than to translate the tattoo, especially in the hearing of the others."_

" _And why is that?" Klaus demanded coolly. Shane just smiled. "I think I'll take my chances," Klaus announced. "You're not exactly the most trustworthy fellow." But, all the same, he did walk out and let Shane survive the night. He could always kill him later, if he turned out to be bluffing. And this was more important now than ever..._

-0-

"Perfect," Damon said. "Although the creepy professor here did offer to just give us the GPS coordinates, and I, for one, prefer 21st Century navigation…"

" **{There is only one dose.}"**

The words were out of Klaus's mouth before he fully comprehended their meaning, and as he heard Rebekah repeat them in English automatically, it was too late to take them back. He looked up at her, and both pairs of eyes were wide with shock and horror.

"Wait… what?" Elena's small voice was the only sound in the room.

"There is only one dose," Klaus repeated in English. Rebekah had already said it, so the damage was done. Shane's eyes were fixed on the ground, and Klaus knew instinctively that he'd known about this somehow. _This_ was the reason that he'd urged him not to translate the mark if he wanted to save Caroline. Now he had more competition.

Stefan wanted the cure for himself, but he wouldn't deny it to Elena.

Elena wanted to be human.

Rebekah wanted to be human, and would be willing to get violent over it.

Jeremy, as a Hunter, probably wanted to cure Silas.

Bonnie wanted the cure for her mother.

And Klaus… Klaus was torn. He wanted the cure for Elena, so that he could make more hybrids, but he also wanted it for Caroline, to try and save her life. He was the only one who, even if he looked only to his own self-interest, couldn't have what he wanted, because he would need _two_ doses to get it.

-0-

The details of the argument that erupted among the group over the next hour or so were lost on the Original Hybrid. He remained in the room—he was pretty sure he'd even made some comments at one point that got Rebekah extremely angry—but his mind was at war with itself, and he had little attention to spare for anything else. The only thing that everyone had agreed on was that they would _all_ be going to the island. They needed as much muscle as possible to deal with this next adventure, and, frankly, everyone just wanted to get to the cure first.

It was evening, and Klaus had returned home, and found himself in Caroline's room again, not saying anything, just sitting in the chair beside her bed, brooding silently. It was an impossible decision. The dream he'd pursued relentlessly for a thousand years, or the girl he'd just discovered he couldn't live without? He couldn't look directly at her, so he dropped his eyes to the floor instead. The staff had gotten all of the blood and vampire bits out of the carpet, he noted.

And on that subject…

"You're either delusional, or suicidal," he informed Shane, as the other man crossed through the doorway and into the room. "Just because I haven't killed you yet does _not_ mean that you are welcome to come traipsing into my house unannounced." His voice held quiet menace, but somehow even though he should probably have killed Shane then and there, he found he didn't have it in him to be enraged tonight.

Elena, or Caroline?

If Shane was wrong, and Klaus gave the cure to Caroline, she might die anyway, made frail by humanity. Her vitals were even weaker, and Meredith was measuring time in twelve-hour increments now.

"I did try to warn you," Shane sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Damon and Stefan will stop at nothing to cure Elena, Jeremy will stop at nothing to cure and kill Silas, your sister has dreamed of this moment for centuries, and let's not forget Bonnie's mother. The competition is looking pretty stiff, even for you. But, you wanted Elena cured initially, didn't you? So you could use her blood to make more hybrids?" Klaus didn't honor that with a response. He was too lost in thought to care what Atticus bleeding Shane thought.

"Out of curiosity," Shane asked softly as he turned to leave, "since there is only one cure, if it falls into your hands, who will you give it to? Elena, or Caroline?"

"That _is_ the question," Klaus murmured, more to himself than to the professor, who shrugged his shoulders, and headed back out the door.

Someday it would occur to him that his sister's wishes never entered his mind, but truthfully, the idea of her living out a mortal life and then dying had struck him as so impossibly tragic back when he'd first learnt it was a possibility, that now he never once considered letting her have it. Rebekah's eventual death would be many millennia in the future—or never—if he had anything to say about it, and typically he DID.

So, he was back to his original dilemma: Elena Gilbert, or Caroline Forbes?

If Elena stayed a vampire, another doppelganger would be born, eventually. He'd have to wait another few hundred years, but he'd eventually get what he'd wanted for so long. If Caroline died, she wouldn't be reborn; she was the one and only Caroline that ever had existed and ever would exist.

But, if he gave the cure to Caroline to save her life, she'd be a mortal. She'd walk the earth for another half a century or so—perhaps a lot less, considering her friends and lifestyle—and then die. Hybrids were immortal, like him. Besides that, he wasn't entirely sure Caroline wanted anything to do with him. She had a nasty habit of sending rather mixed messages. If he saved her, just so she could run off and find Tyler, then he'd have both lost his chance to make hybrids and given satisfaction to someone who had betrayed him.

That train of thought somehow got him swinging around the other way, though, because it reminded him of that moment in the snowy forest, when he'd envisioned her dead, and the jagged hole that would be left in the world without her in it. The idea of losing her swallowed him up again, as it had that night.

But this time it wasn't so simple. This time, he had something— _everything_ —to lose by saving her. This time was different.

Klaus sat there, studying the patterns on her comforter, and for the first time he could remember in his life, he legitimately had no idea what to do.

_Crystal chandeliers threw thousands of tiny dots of light onto every surface, illuminating the stairs, the ballroom floor, the women's jewelry, the men's cufflinks. Klaus glanced to the side. He'd certainly chosen well when he bought Caroline's dress. It caught the little sparks perfectly, surrounding her in a gentle glow. She looked positively angelic._

" _I'm glad you came out tonight," he said softly. She pivoted so that they were facing one another, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He wrapped his hand around her waist, and their feet followed the cues of the music almost of their own accord._

" _So am I," she admitted. Klaus raised his eyebrows a little in surprise. This was supposed to be the part where she insisted she needed a drink before she could talk to him. She smiled, eyes tinted with melancholy. "It's kind of sad, don't you think?" she sighed. "That I only ever saw you when there was some dangerous, high-stakes maneuver going on? I mean, we never just… sat down and got coffee or anything. It's a shame."_

" _Hey now, love," he responded with a smile of his own, "I did suggest you get to know me." Caroline smiled again, sheepishly, and leaned into him, resting her temple against his shoulder as they slow danced. In the background, the music had taken on a very strange quality—it was all one note, without breaks. But, this was the first time Caroline had been so close to him of her own accord, and he wasn't about to pull away over something as minor as the musicians playing badly._

" _This is nice," Caroline whispered, listening to his heart beat as they slow-danced. Klaus agreed strongly, but before he could say anything, some fool in the other room shouted, "Clear!" for no apparent reason, and Caroline stopped moving her feet to the oddly monotone tune, and turned to look towards the doorway. The shouting died down, and her shoulders fell. She looked a bit disappointed._

" _I shouldn't be here," she sighed._

" _But just now, you—" he started, but she was turning to walk away. The person in the other room shouted again; "Clear!" This time, Caroline jumped a little, startled by the noise. She looked around in confusion for a moment, and then looked back up at him, eyes wide._

" _I shouldn't be here!" She shouted in horror, as the floor caved in under her, and she fell into darkness._

_It took every bit of Klaus's vampire reflexes to whip out his hand and catch her wrist before she disappeared. There was a tense moment where Caroline scrabbled at the broken edge of the floor with her free hand._

" _Clear!" the voice screamed raggedly for the third time. Caroline looked up at Klaus, panic written across her face, and mirrored in his. Then a jolt ran through her entire body, and she flung her hand up to get a grip on the edge_ just as Klaus awoke with a start to see Meredith holding defibrillator paddles against Caroline's chest and staring, white-faced, at the flat line on the monitor. The code-blue tone filled the room, drowning out Klaus's wild thoughts.

Nobody breathed.

Then the monitor beeped, and the line arced upwards. The tension drained out of Meredith, and she handed the paddles to one of the nurses before sinking to her knees. The monitor beeped again.

"Oh god," Meredith gasped as the nurse put away the defibrillator. She got shakily up from the floor, and collapsed into the other chair. "That was too damn close," she said, running a hand across her eyes. "If she crashes again…" She looked up, and her stricken expression and the slow little shake of her head finished the sentence for her. They held eye-contact for a long moment, and Meredith was clearly holding back tears.

"It won't be long now," she whispered.


	7. True Love's First Kiss

Klaus awoke the next morning, with the moment from his dream where he'd caught Caroline's hand, and she'd looked up at him in terror, frozen in his mind. It was like someone had painted it in stunning detail on the insides of his eyelids, and every time he blinked, he got another glimpse of her eyes, her hand, her fear. He couldn't believe that he was actually leaning towards saving her, hybrids be damned. She might not even want this—he knew that she loved being a vampire, and wouldn't have taken the cure by choice if it had simply been offered her. But now more than ever, the thought of letting her die was unbearable to him. Maybe it was weak, letting affection cloud his judgment like this. His father would probably have died of humiliation if he'd seen it.

But really, that right there was another excellent reason to do it. At a thousand years old, it was high time he stopped giving a damn what that sorry excuse for a man thought. It was with that amusing piece of posthumous spite in mind, weighing into his dilemma in its turn, that he got up, dressed, and packed for what promised to be _quite_ the interesting trip.

The island was off the coast of Nova Scotia, and Klaus had gotten one of the rich businessmen he occasionally dealt with to lend them his private plane for the trip. It would be arriving to pick them up at three in the afternoon, at a small airport nearby. They'd need to leave for the airport around half-past two, which left the morning free for packing, preparations, and… awkward bonding with his little sister.

Rebekah turned up at lunch time, all swagger and designer jeans and big, pouting lips. He knew what she was after from the moment she crossed the threshold. Of course, she didn't know that the cure could be Caroline's salvation—she thought he only wanted it to make more hybrids. But in any case, she was there to test the waters; see what the chances might be of him giving it to his _darling little sister_ out of family affection. It astounded him that she couldn't seem to understand that even if he didn't want the cure for his own purposes, he wouldn't allow her to sign her own death warrant.

But, though he'd never say it to her face, it was nice to almost be on speaking terms with her again after their last fight. It wouldn't last, of course. He was going to shatter her incredibly foolish hopes and dreams, for her own good as much as anything, and they'd be on the outs again for a few decades. He couldn't say that he was particularly looking forward to that part. So, he made small talk and engaged in colorful banter for the better part of the afternoon.

That was, until the subject of Caroline somehow came up.

"I almost hope she comes around soon," Rebekah sighed. "I've taken over nearly all of her committee jobs, and the mentoring of April Young—who likes me better, anyhow—but, honestly…" she sighed. "School's become quite boring without someone to compete with."

"She certainly has fire," Klaus agreed, taking a sip of his drink. They'd moved into the lounge and Coleen had poured some fancy scotch.

"If she ever comes out of this," Rebekah added, sipping her own, "all I have to say is that she has _got_ to kick this nasty habit she has of saving you Mikaelson boys. It is a _ridiculously_ dangerous hobby."

Klaus frowned slightly in confusion.

"Boy _s_?" He asked. "She saved Kol, but I'm not entirely sure she's ever _met_ Elijah, and she's usually part of the crew trying to kill _me_. You can hardly call it a habit." Outside, tires rolled across the brick driveway. It was Elena's car—must be about that time.

"That night a few weeks ago," Rebekah responded with a shrug, her tone that of a person giving a few hints, so that the listener would remember something obvious that they already knew. "When the hybrids were going to burry you in concrete, or blast you to pieces or whatever it was—I'm not really sure about the details."

"She saved the pack _from_ me," Klaus shot back, shaking his head, but Rebekah had a condescending look on her face.

"Oh, according to some compulsion-motivated confessions," she explained, "the pack had it pretty well handled." Klaus blinked once in surprise as Rebekah stood up and set her glass down on the table. "Thanks for the booze," she said, sort of as an afterthought, as she picked up her purse and headed for the door. If Klaus hadn't been so lost in thought, he might've said something back, but his head was spinning. He heard Stefan's car pull up, and four voices greeted one another in varying degrees of coolness.

That was… well, it was certainly a new development. He'd been certain she'd run into those woods to save her boyfriend and the pack. _He_ was invincible, and no matter how attractive he was to her, she hated him. He'd never dreamed she could have been…

A third vehicle pulled up, and Jeremy, Shane and Bonnie's voices joined Rebekah, Stefan, Damon and Elena. Everyone had arrived, and it was time to go.

And suddenly, Klaus realized that there was one thing he _had_ to do first.

He was at Caroline's bedside in less than half a second, his hands on her shoulders, his mouth near her ear.

"We're going to get that cure—do you hear me?" He growled, nearly shouting it in her ear in his effort to make her hear him.

"You listen to me now, love. I am going to get that cure, and I am going to cut down anyone who stands in my way. I will bring it back, and _you will live_.

So don't you dare let go, Caroline. Hang on—just a little bit longer." Then he pressed his lips to the top of her forehead, released her, and strode out to meet the others. They drove off in Elena's and Shane's SUVs, headed for the airport. In the East wing of Klaus's mansion, Caroline lay, deathly still, with precisely two seconds between her machine-induced heartbeats.

Then the monitor beeped again.

Just a little bit faster, and a tiny bit louder than before.

-0-

The flight was short and boring, and the group made the trip by boat from the mainland to the island in relative silence. Elena and Rebekah still hated one another, and the awkwardness from the Salvatore-Gilbert-Mikaelson love triangle was in full force and quite smothering. Klaus almost wished that Kol had somehow come with him—his little brother's antics would be a welcome distraction from all of the horrendous drama. But, unfortunately, even if he wasn't daggered and coffined, he was acting like a bloody lunatic these days, so he'd hardly be good company.

When they arrived at the island, the sun had nearly set, but except for Shane and Bonnie, the entire group possessed excellent night vision, so they began their trek immediately, Jeremy walking in front of Bonnie and warning her of obstacles, and Shane stumbling along in their wake, a headlamp on his forehead, watching his GPS and occasionally telling them to veer to the right or the left.

As they hiked, Shane told them the legend of the miners, who bled themselves dry into the wishing well in exchange for visions of their lost loved ones. He told them about his wife and son, dead within a few months of each other, and how his wife's ghost had promised him that Silas could bring her back. Klaus got the distinct impression that the man was running his mouth to convince them all that he had no interest in the single dose of the cure, and was therefore not a threat to any of the incredibly edgy vampires present.

He decided that he'd need to get Elena alone, and tell her about the possibility that the cure could save Caroline. She'd be willing to do whatever she needed to do to save her best friend's life, he reasoned, and she'd be wonderfully useful in getting the Salvatores, Jeremy and Bonnie tripped up. Then he'd only need to worry about getting past his sister and her silly obsession. But, he wanted the news to come to the others via Elena's impassioned pleas, rather than his own habitually conniving tones, so he kept the details to himself until he could find the opportunity to speak to the doppelganger in private.

A twig snapped suddenly, and six heads—five vampires and one hunter—whipped to the right. Before Bonnie or Shane could ask what everyone else was staring at, Elena had flung herself at Jeremy, knocking him out of the way of a crossbow bolt. The shooter was just barely visible in the gloom, but as Rebekah and Damon made to rush at him, his body jerked, and he fell forward, a hatchet buried in his back.

"What was that?" Elena gasped, as she and her brother got unsteadily to their feet.

"We're not alone," Damon announced. Klaus crouched down to get a better look at the weapon embedded in their attacker. It was old-fashioned; not something someone had purchased in a hardware store. That was… concerning.

"No," Shane agreed, "we're certainly not. Speaking of which, is everybody watching?" Seven pairs of eyes stared in his direction as he flung a hunk of dead wood onto the path in front of him. With the snap of a rope going taught, a net rose up from the carpet of leaves, trapping the log. "This is where things start to get nasty," he announced. "We'll camp here, and begin again at dawn. We won't find another relatively safe place between us and the wishing well."

Much as he hated being told what to do by the likes of Atticus Shane—who he fully intended to kill the moment the cure was in his hands—Klaus had to admit that the whole trip would be for nothing if something untoward happened to Bonnie or Jeremy. Clearly the others were of a similar mindset, and everyone set down their packs and pitched their tents.

The mysterious hatchet bothered Klaus, and although he set up a tent like the others, he didn't go inside of it. Instead, he slipped into the woods, eyes darting this way and that. Free help from mysterious strangers was never what it seemed like, after all.

So it was that not too long afterwards, right about the time the others were most likely falling asleep, Klaus rounded a tree and came face to face with a strange man with white dots painted horizontally across his nose and cheeks.

"You're a new one," Klaus mused, thumbs stuck in his pockets nonchalantly. The man smelled human. Nasty and unwashed, but human.

"You must be the Hybrid," the man responded, unfazed.

"You've heard of me," Klaus observed. "Should I be flattered?"

"Hardly," the man responded, and raised up his hand. Klaus's brain was splitting in two before he could say "witch," and he fell to his knees, mouth locked shut by a spell. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

-0-

When Klaus awoke, it was to a horrid throbbing pain in his chest and head, and a burning sensation in his wrists. His whole body was pulsing, his feet were numb, his hands were swinging freely in the air above him… _above_ him? After a few seconds, he realized that he was hanging upside-down. The pain in his chest came from the massive stake embedded in his heart, and some kind of little sharp objects had been stuck into his wrists to keep wounds open, and let his blood flow out in streams.

When he found the man who had done this to him, the bastard would wish his mother had drowned him at birth.

He opened his eyes with some difficulty; his body was still recovering from the time he'd spent being "dead." He was underground, suspended from a wooden beam, hanging over a deep, dark abyss.

"The wishing well," he whispered.

"The very same," a familiar voice replied, sending a cold shiver down his spine. He turned his head, noticing as he did that ropes bound his wrists loosely to the posts on either side of the well, preventing him from raising his arms enough to remove the stake from his heart.

A man stood beside him, stance solid, arms folded. He wore polished black boots. Inky black dress-pants with perfect vertical creases. Smooth suit jacket. Huge, strong hands, one on top of the other in front of him. Heavy gold daylight ring.

Klaus swallowed, and it made a dreadfully loud sound—only because he was upside-down, he told himself as his heart rate sped up frantically. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to see the broad shoulders on top of the long torso. He didn't want to see the square jaw and tight mouth.

He could not look into the man's dark blue eyes.

"Hello, _boy_ ," Mikael spat.

Klaus looked up. It took more effort than lifting an eight-ton slab of concrete, but he did it. Mikael glared down at him with equal parts distain and loathing.

"You're dead…" Klaus rasped, his throat bone-dry from his brush with death and desperate need of blood. "I killed you with my own hands."

"In a cowardly sneak attack, I might add," Mikael growled, releasing his hands to his sides and walking slowly to his right, circling in front of Klaus with measured deliberation.

"Someone bled me out," Klaus realized aloud, "and now I'm seeing the fabled 'visions of the dead.' I'd much rather be seeing my old friend Mary Porter, if it's all the same to you; Silas, or whoever you are. This man is hardly a 'loved one.'" Mikael's hand snapped out so quickly that a human's vision wouldn't have caught the movement. He struck Klaus across the face hard enough to make him swing back and forth to the extent that the ropes on his arms would allow. He gasped in shock and pain. Below him, his wrists bled harder from his increased pulse, and his blood replenished faster from the adrenaline flooding his system.

"Can a mere illusion do that?" Mikael demanded. Klaus was trying very, very hard not to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some kind of trick. There was no possible way that he was actually in this position. He was an Original, a hybrid, and the man he'd feared and hated for so many years was ashes—he'd seen to it. But as Mikael continued walking around him and disappeared from his field of vision, his heart-rate sped up again from the habitual fear he'd learned as a child of having his back exposed to him…

"I can smell your fear," Mikael taunted. It was sickeningly true. Every muscle in Klaus's body was braced, even though he knew perfectly well that without the White Oak stake—locked up tightly in his safe back in Mystic Falls after the Kol-Jeremy-Elena debacle—the older man couldn't do any permanent damage. Blood continued to pour from Klaus's wrists in uncontrolled rivulets, but he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

"How can you be here?" he growled, jaw tight. Mikael finished his circle, winding up on Klaus's left side again, within his field of vision. Not that seeing him did any good. Somewhere, Mikael had picked up a long, thin switch of wood, which he lashed out with, striking Klaus's unprotected ribs. Klaus hissed in pain. Whoever had strung him up had removed his coat and hooded sweatshirt, leaving him only in his thin long-sleeved tee-shirt. The sting itself was nothing, in the grand scheme of things, but the helplessness and humiliation gnawed at him, making the little blow seem like a line of fire etched into his skin.

And still he bled profusely. At this rate, he'd bleed out and lose consciousness again. That possibility frightened him more than anything else so far; the idea of being unconscious in the presence of his sadistic step-father sent a thrill of terror through him so strong that it jolted his mind into a greater state of wakefulness. His heart throbbed loudly.

"Did you really believe you'd ever be rid of me?" Mikael demanded, with cruel laughter in his voice. He stepped behind Klaus again as he spoke. "I will hunt you for every last day of eternity, you abomination!" He punctuated the last word with a lash to Klaus's back. Klaus tried suddenly and violently to twist around and see him, but the movement shifted the stake still thrust through his heart, and darkness took him again as he died for the second time that abysmally horrible day.

-0-

_Klaus awoke somewhere entirely different, lying down in sweet-smelling grass, with tree-branches interlacing over him._

" _Can you hear me?" he turned his head to the side, propping himself up on his elbow. A girl knelt bedside him, dressed simply in homespun brown and green garments from a time long past. She couldn't have been more than ten or twelve years old, and she was looking at him with intensity in her big hazel eyes._

" _Who—" he started to ask, but she put a finger to his lips._

" _There is no time!" the girl insisted. "Listen carefully, Niklaus. You're dead—you moved around too much and injured your heart. This is the Other Side—well, an out of the way corner of it. I'm a witch, and I brought you here with magic, but we only have about a minute before you'll go back._

_You were right—the Mikael you're seeing is an illusion. Silas conjured him, but he's as real as you believe he is as long as Silas keeps his strength up. Some guys with weird white paint on their faces brought you in and bled you out over the well, and now Silas is using his illusions to upset you and make you bleed harder and faster. You have to get the clips out of your wrists, as soon as you wake up. You'll only have a moment, in between being dead and Silas getting back into your head. If you stop bleeding, his power will diminish, and he won't be able to maintain the illusion. You can worry about freeing yourself afterwards._

_Tell me you understand me!" She shouted as the wind picked up around them and the trees and sky blurred out of focus._

-0-

Klaus inhaled the dry, stuffy cave air, and before he even breathed out, he was ripping through the ropes on his arms—which seemed so much more brittle than he'd initially thought. As he pulled the first metal piece out of his wrist, Mikael reappeared and slashed at his side with the switch. It hurt, but less than before. Klaus dropped first one, and then the other of the little metal bits into the pit below him, hoping that they fell right into Silas's mouth and choked him.

"It's useless, boy," Mikael growled, whipping him again and again, enraged. Now that Klaus's hands were free, he was able to reach up and yank the stake out of his heart, and then twist all the way up to rip the ropes off of his ankles. He fell straight down the well, Mikael's angered bellows still ringing in his ears. When he hit the stone ground below, he rolled several times and then got his feet under him, rising into a fighting stance in case the illusion followed him. However, after several seconds it became obvious that he was quite alone.

That was, until he heard shuffling footsteps and voices from up above. He hoped they were real people—he was completely parched after being bled out and tortured.

"That's… odd," he heard Shane say softly.

"What's odd?" Bonnie demanded.

"Nothing important," Shane assured her. "Who wants to go down first?" So, Shane orchestrated this, Klaus reasoned. He'd needed him out of the way so that he could get Bonnie and Jeremy away from the others. He silently retreated into the shadows on one side of the cave. He had no intention of being seen like this—messy, exhausted and covered in his own blood. He'd wait until they came down and opened up the chamber, and then he'd drain every last drop of Shane's blood, as he should've done in the man's office when he confronted him about the attack at his house. Then he'd go inside, snatch the cure, and head on home to give it to Caroline.

He couldn't believe his extraordinary luck when Bonnie's spell to open the door caused a cave-in, and Shane wound up trapped beneath a heavy boulder. _Naturally_ , the witch and the hunter carried on without the duplicitous bastard, and Klaus stepped out from his hiding place as soon as they were out of sight.

"Klaus…" Shane breathed, and the Original smiled. Now _that_ was the fear he'd been missing when people said his name these days.

"That looks quite nasty, professor," Klaus murmured as he crouched down to Shane's level, nodding at his shattered, bleeding leg.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to help a guy out?" Shane asked, mouth dry. Klaus smiled.

"You suppose correctly," Klaus responded. "But before I kill you, I do have one question: why did you want her dead?"

"Her?" Shane hedged.

"Caroline," Klaus said flatly.

"I never wanted her to die," Shane insisted, shaking his head, hard. "I just needed you to kill twelve vampires. For a ritual that Silas will use to bring back the dead—people like your brother, Finn! Like your friend Caroline's father. What about all of the human doppelgangers who died of natural causes, way back when? If you help me raise Silas, you could find yourself with enough hybrid-making blood for an army!"

Klaus's eyes told Shane that it was useless before he even opened his mouth, but he just kept on speaking, the words flooding out in a last-ditch attempt to survive—right up until Klaus snarled and sank his teeth into the professor's neck.

It didn't matter _who_ Silas could bring back. He was going to pay for what he'd done to him. And then Klaus was going to take the cure home and save the girl he loved.

Elena sped by on her way in without even sparing Shane a second glance, and Klaus finished up draining him and dropped the corpse to the stone floor. Now he had to hurry—he had to make sure Elena knew that her best friend's life rode on the cure. He headed into the tunnel, but Elena barreled into him, headed back out in a mad dash. Her face was streaked with tears, and she looked a little wild.

"It's gone!" She shouted by way of explanation as she steadied herself. "Rebekah must've gotten here first!"

" _What_?" Klaus demanded. Surely he'd have seen her pass by, wouldn't he? Unless she'd turned up while he was dead, completely ignored him, and then hid on the other side of the chamber until Bonnie's cave-in provided enough distraction for her to get in. She could have gotten in, but still, how could she have gotten out without him noticing? He'd been in the outer chamber drinking Shane's blood the whole time.

"I'm going to find Stefan," Elena sobbed, dashing out and jumping back up through the wishing well at vampire speed. Klaus was about to follow her when he realized that he was only hearing one heartbeat from the inner cavern. Bonnie and Jeremy had both gone in...

If he had a chance in hell of finding his sister before she gulped down the cure, it was Bonnie Bennett and a locator spell. He turned and headed back into the cave, following the sound of the heartbeat to its source.

"Elena?" he whispered in surprise. Elena lay against the cave wall, her head covered in blood, her jacket and pack gone.

" _Katherine_ ," she choked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, that sucks for you, Klaus darling! A quick reminder: Jeremy is dead, and Silas—using Shane's identity—took Bonnie, healed her, and they're off in the forest now. That's why Klaus only heard Elena's heartbeat.


	8. Hanging On

Once, when Caroline was about seven years old, she'd climbed the tree in her front yard, lost her footing, and ended up hanging off one of the branches, low enough that there weren't any substantial branches beneath her, but high enough that she was guaranteed injury if she let go and fell to the sidewalk. She'd tried to swing her tiny little legs up onto the branch, but couldn't kick high enough, and with each attempt, she felt her grip on the slick, weathered wood loosen. She hadn't had the upper body strength to pull herself up with just her hands, and tears of frustration had welled up in her eyes.

Right about then, her dad had found her, and rushed to help. He'd gotten under her, and held up his arms. "It's okay, sweetie," he'd said. "It's just like jumping into the pool—I'll catch you. Just let go." She'd taken a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and released the tree branch. Her heart flew into her throat as she fell, but in a second she was leaning into her father's chest, perfectly safe. She'd been banned from climbing that tree again, and it would stand as one of the few parental bans she hadn't resented or defied.

This felt like that had then—like she was hanging onto a slick tree branch for dear life, an abyss beneath her dangling feet. Everything hurt. The follicles of her hair, the insides of her veins, the tips of her toes. She clung doggedly to life, but with each passing hour, she grew more and more tired, and the more exhausted she was, the less strength she had to try and claw her way back to consciousness. It was an impossible battle, which day by day, moment by moment became more and more impossible.

The pain of it would overwhelm her sometimes, and she'd think how blissfully freeing it would be, to just let go, to give up, to fall into her daddy's arms and leave the world of pain and heartache behind. She knew vaguely that her dad hadn't transitioned, but she couldn't help but wonder if somehow he was over there—on the Other Side. The longer she waited, the more it hurt. She knew by the end of the first day that she didn't have the strength to pull herself out of this; she was only delaying the inevitable.

But she could hear them, sometimes. It was garbled, like sounds filtered through water, but she could recognize voices and sometimes distinguish whole passages of dialogue.

Elena—hopeful, but tinged with sadness. "I wish you were here, Caroline… We're seriously lacking in fabulousness at the moment."

Stefan—low and trustworthy, careful to say only true things, but never giving up on her. "Meredith and Bonnie are doing everything they can. You're a fighter, Caroline."

Bonnie—frightened and sad, not wanting to lose her. "I need you, Care."

Her mom—trying to be strong, trying to keep it together, but breaking down day by day. "You can't let this beat you, honey. Please… I can't lose you too. Not like this."

Jeremy—full of guilt, eager to acquit himself. "We're doing this right, okay? So now you hold up your end, and don't die."

Damon—trying to be flippant, masking fear with humor. "C'mon, drama queen. Everybody knows this isn't enough to shut _you_ up for good. You better the hell not die on us now." Turns out, he did care after all. Who knew?

She knew she was fighting a losing battle. She knew that she was causing herself more pain than she need have by staying here, on the razor's edge between life and death. But so many people were worried about her. So many people were getting through their days buoyed up by the hope that she'd open her eyes tomorrow. As long as her heart was beating, they'd have that hope. She couldn't take that from them. And, selfish as it was, she wanted to hear their voices, as much as she could before the unavoidable end. Her friends, her family, the people who loved her, the people she loved… So she dug her fingers in and clung grimly on to life, fighting for every hour as she felt her strength wane.

She heard bits and snatches of Shane talking to Klaus, telling him that the cure could save her, but she couldn't let herself count on that. It could be weeks before they found the thing, if they ever found it at all. For her, each minute she lasted was a major victory, with no promise of another to follow it. She knew she wouldn't make it until they could get her the cure.

She sensed the shift in Elena, in Stefan, when they talked about the cure, and knew that something else was wrong, but no one would say what it was. Then Shane's question cleared it up for her. _"Since there is only one cure, who will you give it too?"_ Silence, roaring through the room like a tidal wave, had been the only response, and Caroline had felt her fingers slipping. She was clinging on with one hand now—it wouldn't be long before the end.

Klaus needed the cure to make Elena human so he could make more hybrids. Rebekah wanted it for herself. Stefan wanted it for Elena, but he also wanted it himself. Damon wanted it for Elena. Bonnie wanted it for her mom, but ultimately might agree to give it to Elena. Jeremy wanted it for his sister as well, but his hunter side might overwhelm him and make him want to give it to Silas. Elena might give it to her to save her life, but with all of the powerful people fighting over it, she'd never get the chance. Of all the potential candidates, Caroline certainly wouldn't be the one who ended up with the thing. It was an empty dream.

"I'm never the one that anyone picks," she remembered drunkenly crying to Bonnie, back when she was human and the thing that mattered most in the world was being able to beat Elena at something—anything. It seemed so petty now. Bonnie was right, back then; it wasn't a contest. It was just the way life went sometimes.

It was after that that she faded out for a moment—lost her grip entirely and free-floated through space, heart still, lungs empty, body frozen. The world went gray, and for one, terrifying, blissful, horrible, wonderful moment, she knew that she was dead. A shock ricocheted through her, and she could've sworn she felt someone's hand grab her wrist, holding on for the two seconds that it took her to regain her hold. Then she knew that somewhere outside of her mind, her heart was beating again. But she knew that Meredith was right.

It wouldn't be long now.

She wanted to hear her mother's voice again, she thought as her pinky lost its grip. She wanted to hear it one more time—then she had to let go. The pain was too overwhelming, the effort too much to make when she was just postponing the inevitable. She was supposed to be dead, anyway, so many times over. She'd been dying as a human, only to be saved with vampire blood. She'd been killed by a vampire, only to be reborn as one herself. She'd been intended as a sacrifice, but over and over the monster she'd been gifted too had saved her. She'd fought opponents many times her age and strength, and yet somehow she always walked away. And now she'd used a mystical dagger that killed and vampire who used it. The universe planned to have its due this time; her number had been up for months, and now it was time to go. But she wanted to hear her mom's voice—just once more.

Her ring finger slipped and joined her pinky.

It was too bad that she and Tyler had ended things the way they did. She wondered, as her index finger began to slide, if he would come to her funeral. He was the only one whose voice she never heard—the only one who wouldn't get to say goodbye. She wondered if Matt would call and tell him. She wondered if he even had his phone, or if he'd blow back into town in a few decades, and find a grave with her name on it.

She was gripping with one finger now. Maybe she wouldn't be able to wait for her mom after all. The soothing darkness called to her from below. She was only putting off the inevitable. Her last finger was sliding.

'I'm sorry, mom, everyone,' she thought.

"We're going to get that cure—do you hear me?"

Klaus's voice was near her ear. It was a little hoarse, like he wanted to be shouting, but was carefully forcing himself to speak at normal volume.

"You listen to me now, love. I am going to get that cure, and I am going to cut down anyone who stands in my way. I will bring it back, and you will live. So don't you dare let go, Caroline. Hang on—just a little bit longer."

She felt something scratching her forehead. His stubble, she realized as his footsteps retreated. He'd kissed her forehead before he left.

He had said he was going to give her the cure.

But… didn't he want it for his hybrids?

Hadn't that been his all-consuming dream for centuries? She'd assumed that he wouldn't allow Elena to give up the cure, even if she'd wanted too.

He would give up his dream… to save her life? But, what did he think he would get out of it? She hadn't exactly given him any hope. She'd shut him down at every opportunity. Their last conversation, back in his car, she'd flat out admitted that she'd never go for him. He had no reason to expect any gain…

He had put her needs before his own. He had put her first.

People didn't do that.

Heat rushed through her chest. It burned, but the numbness in her fingertip began to ease, and she somehow kept her grip.

Bonnie put Elena first. Elena put the Salvatores first. Stefan and Damon put Elena first. Her mother put her job first. Her dad had put his beliefs first. Matt put Elena first. Tyler put his pack first.

Caroline was loved—she knew she was loved. She had been amazingly lucky, in friends, in boyfriends, in family…

But never in her life had someone offered something like that. Never in her life had she been the first choice when the stakes were so high. And certainly not by someone like him—someone who didn't have it written into his nature to place the needs of others before his own.

Caroline swung up her other arm and dug her nails in.

Maybe it was selfish—wanting someone to give up everything for her. It was unreasonable, she knew that, and that's why she'd never said anything, why she'd tried so hard not to think about it, why she'd been ashamed to admit that it bothered her in the first place. People _didn't do that._

Surely, no greater or higher form of love existed than this.

She'd be damned if she was going to let him down—not after that.

The pain was indescribable. It was like trying to heft the weight of a dozen skyscrapers by the tips of her fingers. It was like pulling herself through a pile of crushed glass and razor blades. It was like diving into the center of the sun, and being crushed by its gravity and burned by its heat simultaneously.

It was impossible.

She heaved, and got her elbow up and over. Her armpit supported her weight, but she wasn't foolish enough to stop for a breather now. She was nowhere near out of the woods. If she'd been able to scream, she would have as she locked her other elbow over the top and got a better grip with her hands.

Then, in true cheerleading style, she straightened her arms, fighting and struggling against the weight of destiny for every centimeter she ascended.

Her elbows flattened out and snapped rigid, holding all her weight.

She dragged her leg up and put weight on her shin.

She gripped the tree trunk, and pulled.

She planted her other foot on the branch.

Then she straightened her legs and stood up.

And her heart throbbed unassisted for the first time since Meredith had hooked her up to life support.

-0-

When, about six hours after the questing group departed, Caroline gasped loudly for air, Meredith—who had been in the lab, reviewing charts, and morbidly calculating exactly how many hours her patient would last at her current rate of decline—nearly had a heart attack.

'Impossible,' was the word that flashed through her mind as she dropped her clipboard and rushed into Caroline's bedroom. She'd known for days that it was only a matter of time—Caroline was as terminal as terminal could be, and was subsisting on borrowed time for as long as she did because modern technology and magic combined had bound her to this earth for a few last days. She was never going to wake up; Meredith knew that, although she didn't have the heart to say it aloud to the others in so many words. Unless somehow the cure plan worked, Caroline was dead—that was all there was to it.

But there she was, eyes wide open, gasping for air around the respirator, fingers locked in a death grip around the blankets on either side of her.

"Oh, my god," Meredith choked out, and hit the "call nurse" button that Klaus had had installed so that she could summon his staff in an emergency at a moment's notice, even now, at a quarter to 3 in the morning.

The maid brought a few fresh blood bags, and hooked them up to Caroline's IV. Meredith removed the respirator tube from the girl's throat at 3:30, replacing it with an oxygen mask. She also took out the circulation machine. The holes took a few minutes to heal, whereas a normal vampire would've recovered in seconds, but they _did_ heal.

Slowly, as Caroline's body processed the sudden influx of blood, she regained color. Around 5:00 a.m., the grayness retreated from her skin, replaced by shocking white, and then a tinge of pink warmed her around 6:00. Her respiration steadied, and Meredith removed the oxygen mask by 6:30. The assistants propped Caroline up on a tiny mountain of pillows so that she could sit, and one of the maids heated up some blood in a pan on the stove, like one would warm milk for a baby. Caroline was able to hold a mug of warm blood without spilling it by 7:00 a.m., and Meredith was simply in shock. It was like Rick in the ER all over again—people didn't just recover from something like that.

'Of course,' she admitted to herself as she sun peeked through the curtains and she stepped out to call Liz and give her the good news, 'in a perfect world, this would happen all the time, and I'd be out of a job. And I think I'd be okay with that.'

Caroline passed out again after drinking half a mug of blood, and so by the time Liz arrived, she was sleeping, but she'd rolled onto her side, and her skin and posture spoke for itself. Liz sat down by her bedside and cried for a good long time, and then wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and said that she was taking a sick day so she could be there the next time Caroline came around.

Around noon, Caroline woke up again, and Meredith stepped out to give her and her mother some privacy. An hour later, Caroline passed out again, and Meredith removed the bandaged around her right hand. It was grey and veiny, but she'd been moving it, and it no longer looked charred or in imminent danger of falling to pieces. That was pretty excellent progress, all things considered.

Meredith's exhaustion overwhelmed her a little while later, and she crashed on the couch in her lab. While she slept, Caroline woke up, drank more blood, and ate a fried egg that one of the assistants made for her. It made her sick to her stomach, but she kept it down, and was able to stand up on her own by the middle of the night—although the effort of taking a bath exhausted her completely, and she had to return to bed immediately afterwards. By then, her hand was a pale, sickly off-white; a step up from grey. Her vampire healing was kicking in and restoring her body at a phenomenal rate.

When Meredith woke up—around four in the morning—Caroline had retrieved Klaus's copy of Nicholas Nickelby from the library, and was sitting up in bed reading it. It was around then that Meredith realized she should probably call Klaus, and Elena, and let them know that Caroline had made it through. However—unsurprisingly, given the hour of the night, and what the individuals were doing—neither one answered her calls. She didn't leave messages—this wasn't really voicemail kind of news, and if she just said, "call me," they'd likely panic and assume something was wrong.

It was just before seven when Stefan called her and told her about Jeremy. With Caroline stabilized, she left her in the care of the assistants without a second thought, and rushed over to the Gilbert household. Sure enough, Jeremy was dead, Elena was in denial, and by the time Matt calmed her down and got her out of the house, Meredith realized with chagrin that she'd completely forgotten to give them the good news of Caroline's recovery. She told Stefan, who was immensely relieved and glad, but the joy was tainted by the grief of Jeremy's loss. Nobody knew where Klaus was—he'd separated from them at the airport terminal, and wasn't answering his phone, although Meredith called him four more times. Hopefully, he'd go home and stumble upon Caroline himself, she thought distractedly.

-0-

"Another." Niklaus Mikaelson's voice was a rough bark as he shoved his shot glass back towards the bartender for a refill. The man had seen plenty of different types of drunks in his day—sad, funny, depressed, belligerent, sexual, violent, and every shade of emotion in between—but something about this fellow frightened him. He poured him another shot, and slid the glass back. The man tossed the liquor down his throat and returned the cup wordlessly.

"Rough week?" the bartender ventured as he poured the man his eighteenth shot.

"Shut up," Klaus snapped, pupils widening. The bartender's mouth snapped shut, and Klaus plucked the bottle from his grasp. "Go bother your other patrons, and leave me be." The human bumbled off, and Klaus downed another swallow of alcohol before popping the spout off the bottle so he could drink directly from it. He was feeling groggy from drinking too much too quickly, but the copious amount of alcohol wasn't helping—not with his mood, not with his thirst, and not with the phantom pains in his ribs and back from his ordeal at the hands of the illusion of his "father."

He wasn't ready to go home. He knew that she was so completely out of it that she wouldn't know he'd failed, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to face her. Maybe it was because, for the first time since this while damn thing began, he'd be looking at her and know that what lay in that bed was a corpse, not a patient. He couldn't face that—not yet. He took another drink, and checked his phone.

Five missed calls from Meredith. One from Stefan. Three from Sheriff Forbes. He didn't bother listening to his voicemails. They wouldn't be hounding him like that if nothing was wrong. He took another swallow. Caroline was dead. Everything they'd done was for nothing. After all he'd done to keep her alive, she'd slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve. He threw the half-full bottle with such force that it left a dent in the hardwood floor behind the bar before shattering itself. He didn't even bother compelling the bar full of people not to notice. He just got up and stalked out.

There was nowhere to go but home. He considered driving southwest and not stopping until he hit Mexico, but then Stefan and Meredith would keep blowing up his phone, and that would be too bloody irritating; a constant reminder of what had happened. Better to go back to his house, see the body for himself, and get them off his back.

The drive was too short. He should've followed the speed limit, maybe stopped to get gas, but he drove at a feverish pace, like he thought he might miss something if he didn't get home quickly enough. They hadn't buried her already, had they? Once that thought entered his mind, he floored the accelerator, and arrived in his driveway in record time. Tossing the keys to one of his valets, he didn't even bother to close the driver's door before walking up to his front door and yanking it open. The house was eerily quiet, and it took him a moment of standing in the foyer before he figured out what was missing—the constant beeping and hissing of medical machinery had been silenced. He heard heartbeats—his servants, going about their business, and the soft hum of the furnace. That was it.

His feet felt heavy as he ascended the stairs and turned the corner into the hallway.

The door to the room he'd been calling hers seemed strangely light in comparison, and it took restraint for him not to shove it inward and rip it off its hinges.

He raised his eyes to the foot of the bed, and then few degrees higher.

"Hey," she greeted him, voice quiet and hoarse, but unmistakable.


	9. Little Talks

Caroline was sitting up in bed, a mug of something clamped between her hands. She looked exhausted, but otherwise perfectly healthy. And she was smiling at Klaus as he entered.

"Hey," she said quietly. The sound of her heartbeat, steady, healthy, filled the room. Klaus walked forward wordlessly, half expecting to come to a point where he could see through the illusion. She didn't vanish, and looked up at him as he stood over her.

"You're alive," he finally breathed in disbelief, sitting down slowly on the side of the bed, and reaching out to touch her face, brushing his fingers so lightly across her skin, like he thought she might shatter.

"One-hundred percent," she assured him lightly. "Well, more like seventy-six percent; I'm still…" But whatever she still was that prevented her from being considered entirely alive was lost as Klaus Mikaelson, Original Hybrid feared the world around, pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace.

"Don't you **ever** do that again," he growled into her hair.

"Yeah," she agreed with a breathless laugh, "I'll leave the sticking-people-with-sharp-objects to you from now on."

That wasn't what she had meant to say. This wasn't how she was supposed to act. His emotional response had caught her off-guard, and she kept making light of everything, trying to diffuse the intensity. She needed to tell him that she'd heard him. She needed him to know that he'd saved her life. But her efforts worked, a little—he laughed at her lame joke.

"When did you come around?" he asked, releasing her and sitting back a little—acting more like himself.

"A few hours after you guys left," she responded. "I've been in and out though—an hour from now I'll probably be fast asleep again. Weird that I'm so tired when I've done nothing _but_ sleep for weeks now…"

"I rather doubt that dying counts as rest," Klaus reminded her, and she smiled ruefully and nodded.

"How is everybody else?" she asked, recollecting herself. "I've been stuck here all day, and I have no idea where my phone is or what your computer password is, so I'm basically insulated from all forms of modern communication."

"Must be a strange sensation," the hybrid ribbed, and she stuck her tongue out. "I left them at the airport, and haven't been back since."

"Or answering your phone, according to Meredith," Caroline added, frowning. "She's been trying to call you all day—you know, cell phones only work when they're powered on and you respond to them making loud noises from your pocket…"

"I believe Bonnie had yours," he informed her, remembering vaguely that piece of info from when they'd transported her from Elena's living room to his house. Bonnie had picked up the phone from in between the couch cushions without ever pausing in her chanting. But that thought brought him back around to the problem at hand.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.

"What?" Caroline asked, frowning in confusion.

"The dagger is fatal to any vampire that uses it. If you knew everything was going to hell, then why in blazes would you step in like that and get yourself killed?" Caroline's eyes widened a little in recognition as she realized what he was talking about, and then she rolled them and shrugged.

"There's so many rules," she grumbled. "It's all very confusing. In the heat of the moment I just… forgot." He was already shaking his head.

"I might believe the empty-headed blonde routine if I hadn't seen you use it so effectively before, but I know better. You're cleverer than to forget an important detail like that." Caroline sighed, and glowered up at him.

"Look," she said flatly, "I get that 'angry' is kind of your default setting, but could we please rewind? To the part where you were happy that I was alive?" Klaus froze, and then smiled a little ruefully.

"Sorry," he murmured, stroking her hair back from her temple with his thumb. "You've had a rough month. And I am… _indescribably_ happy… that you're alive," he admitted softly.

Caroline swallowed. If there was ever a right time to tell him, this was it. But her head was spinning, and a new wave of exhaustion hit her, dragging her into its depths. She moaned softly, pressing a hand to her eyes. Why couldn't she stay awake for this? She couldn't still be _that_ weak, could she? Apparently, however, she could. Strong hands guided her back down, and tucked the comforter over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she managed to murmur before she faded back into sweet, black oblivion.

-0-

The next time Caroline awoke, early morning sunlight was streaming through the windows. She inhaled deeply, and sat up, reveling in the simple fact that she could move.

Over the month that she'd been here, Elena, Bonnie and her mom had moved a lot of her stuff into the room for when she finally woke up, as she'd discovered when she tried to hunt up her phone the previous day. Several sets of her clothes, her undergarments, and most of her pajamas, were in the dresser, her toiletries were stashed in the bathroom, and a couple of her favorite books lay on the bedside table. Her mom had read them aloud to her sometimes, when she came, and although the stories had been harder to focus in on than the personal messages, it had still been nice to hear what she could of them…

She got up—slowly, still feeling sore and weak—and padded slowly into the bathroom to take a shower. She'd had a bath yesterday, when she couldn't stand up for so long, but today she felt better, and was determined to start getting back to normal. So, she found some of her clothes, turned on the water, and did her best to wash her hair with only one hand. Although the rest of her body looked normal, her left hand had gotten the worst blast, and was taking its sweet time healing. The skin was still grey, and it was difficult to move it.

After her shower, she dressed, brushed her teeth, and then nearly collapsed on her way out of the room into the hallway.

"Good morning, love," Klaus exclaimed as he appeared out of nowhere and caught her before she could hit the carpet.

"Morning," she gasped in response as she got her feet back under her. "I really hope this sudden vertigo thing goes away soon," she added, pulling away a little, testing her balance to see if she could stay upright.

"Could be worse," he reminded her, and she nodded. "Where were you trying to go?" he asked, his hand still on her arm.

"Looking for something to eat," she responded. "And, er, drink." She knew she didn't need to elaborate.

"I can have my staff bring you breakfast in bed, you know," he told her, but she shook her head.

"I've been stuck in one place for weeks," she reminded him. "Besides, I'm a vampire, not an invalid." Humiliation colored her tone at that, and she didn't meet his eyes. This was another thing that didn't need explaining; it was no secret that Caroline loved the strength and invulnerability of vampirism.

"Well then," Klaus said, gesturing down the hall. "The dining room is this way. Would you care to have breakfast with me?"

"Sure," she agreed, and they headed down the stairs. Caroline leaned heavily on the railing on the way down, and Klaus hovered close by, but didn't plan on grabbing her if she didn't need it. She made it down the stairs, through the living room, and into the dining room under her own power, and Klaus pulled out a chair for her—a move he could pass off as an ordinary gentleman's habit, rather than coddling.

Monica and Amber appeared on cue, carrying blood bags and glasses, and Klaus sent Monica to go and tell his chef that they'd both be eating at the table after all.

"I called Stefan last night after you were asleep," Klaus informed her, sipping at his morning A+. "Let him know that you were still walking among the undead."

"Thanks," Caroline said with a smile, polishing off her glass of blood in two gulps. Amber appeared at her elbow with another bag immediately.

"The girls are lovely, by the way," Klaus observed, "if you'd like something a bit warmer." Caroline was in the middle of a sip, and choked a little at that, glaring up at him. He shrugged. "Well, figured I'd offer…" he muttered.

"So," Caroline began, changing the subject before she could get into a fight with the Original, "did you get it? The cure?" Klaus's face darkened considerably—clearly it was the wrong thing to say.

Alphonse, the chef, chose that moment to enter, carrying two large platters of food—eggs, bacon, waffles and fresh fruit arrayed like Klaus's dining room was a gourmet restaurant.

"Do you drink coffee?" he asked Caroline. She'd been on blood only yesterday, so the man didn't know her habits. She nodded.

"Yes, please." Alphonse bowed and retreated back to the kitchen.

"We found the cure," Klaus explained, "but then Katerina turned up. She killed Jeremy Gilbert, and stole the cure out from under all of our noses."

"She killed Jeremy?" Caroline shrieked, nearly dropping her blood glass. "Why didn't you say that earlier?" She sat back in her chair, hands pressed together, thumbs against her mouth. "Oh my god…" she whispered in horror, "Elena and Bonnie must be devastated!"

"Damon used his sire bond to convince Elena to flip her humanity switch, actually," Klaus continued, pouring syrup on his waffles. "Bonnie believes that Silas will help her revive him, but the rest of us are hardly confident, considering it _is_ Silas." Caroline could only nod. She was holding back tears of sympathy for her friends.

They finished their food in silence, and afterwards Klaus gave Caroline his phone to call Stefan, Elena and Bonnie. Stefan was clearly delighted to hear her voice, but he sounded deeply exhausted underneath the joy.

"Hey, do you think you're up to having visitors yet?" he asked. "I think it would be really healthy for Elena to have some good news and quality friend time."

"Of course!" Caroline exclaimed, resolving to whatever it took to stay awake for this. After she hung up with Stefan, she called Bonnie, since she'd be seeing Elena in the flesh fairly soon. However, whether it was because it was Klaus's number or because she was busy with witchy stuff, her friend didn't answer. Caroline asked Amber to brew up some more coffee—as strong as she could make it—and leaned back into her pillows to wait for Elena and the Salvatore brothers.

Seeing Elena in her emotionless state was… strange. She looked the same, moved the same way, even made facial expressions, and yet, something behind her eyes was staggeringly different. After Stefan hugged Caroline for a long minute, and Damon gave her a little one-armed side hug, Elena hugged her too, but it seemed that she was only doing what everybody else was doing. Stefan sat down on the side of Caroline's bed, and Elena and Damon took the two chairs.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked Elena quietly. Elena rolled her eyes.

"That's sort of the point of flipping my switch, Care," she reminded her. "No pesky feelings. I'm fine. Great, even."

"Well, it's really too bad your switch is flipped," Stefan observed casually. "You're missing out on everything you'd be feeling right now over Caroline's miraculous survival." Elena just shrugged. "If you _could_ feel," Stefan continued, "what do you _think_ you would feel about it?" Damon shot him a warning look. It was clear the brothers were _not_ on the same page about this.

"I don't know, Stefan," Elena shot back, sounding bored.

"Yeah, but, just _imagine_ ," he suggested. Elena's eyes snapped up to meet his, and then slid over to Caroline's.

"I think I'd feel like it was horribly unfair," she sighed finally. "You got to live, but my brother had to die." Silence roared. Caroline's eyebrows rose up her forehead.

"Wow," she commented before Stefan could jump in. "So many years, and now she finally sounds like a cheerleader. Turning off your emotions makes you into a less-glamorous version of me, Sophomore year." She smiled coldly, and Elena smiled back, even more so.

"Do you ever get nostalgic for a time when your biggest problem was that you couldn't get anyone to have sex with you who wouldn't rather be sleeping with me?" She asked.

"Not ever," Caroline shot back instantly. "I'd always rather fight bad guys than my best friend." Elena looked a little surprised, and then appeared to concentrate hard for a moment. Then she laughed.

"You know," she suggested, "you'd probably benefit from flipping yours some time. Then you would stop moping about how Tyler left you—again. And an added bonus: you wouldn't have to feel so guilty for all the dirty thoughts you have about Klaus.

"Okay," Damon announced, standing up. "I think that's enough quality friend time for one day…"

"Who says that I do?" Caroline demanded quietly, eyes never leaving Elena's. Elena scoffed.

"Please. It's obvious. I don't blame you—he's pretty cute when he's not trying to kill everybody."

"Feel guilty for how I feel," Caroline clarified, eyes flashing. There was a beat. Nobody breathed.

"Feel? After all the crap you gave me about Damon… you have _feelings_ for Klaus?" Elena breathed in fascination. "You _hypocrite_!" Caroline sighed, dropping her eyes to her hands. Flipped switch or no, Elena had a point. She might not like Damon, but it was wrong to punish Elena for how she felt. Especially considering… Well, it was wrong, in any case.

"You're right," she admitted simply, looking back up. "I'm sorry."

"Never thought I'd hear those words from Caroline Forbes's mouth," Elena observed, and Caroline ran a hand through her hair sheepishly.

"So, what now?" Elena asked coldly. "Am I supposed to be so excited to hear Caroline finally admit she was wrong that I turn my feelings back on to give her a big warm hug?"

"A girl can hope," Caroline sighed. In her peripheral vision, she saw Stefan's shoulders droop.

"Too bad for you, I've known you long enough to see through your act," Elena said with another heartless smile. Then she twisted around to call over her shoulder. "You must be so disappointed, Klaus!" Caroline's hand flew to her mouth. Klaus had been on the phone with somebody when Elena and the boys arrived, but she realized now that he'd been silent for several minutes. That meant that he could easily hear everything they'd said—including her hint that she might have feelings for him… and the fact that she'd only said it to try and trick Elena into flipping her switch.

"Yeah," Damon said, walking around the bed and putting a hand on Elena's shoulder. "We're done. Come on—let's go eat some sorority girls."

"Never thought I'd see the day," Caroline spat out as a parting dig, "when Elena Gilbert would lower herself to acting so like Katherine Pierce."

The sound of Elena's fist connecting with Caroline's jaw echoed around the room, and before the sound died entirely, Damon had his arms wrapped around Elena, Stefan was standing in front of Caroline, and Klaus was in the doorway, mouth opening to say, "Get out of my house before I throw you out in pieces."

"Leaving!" Damon said before the Hybrid could even finish speaking, and he half led, half dragged Elena out the door. "What the hell was that?" they heard him say from the hallway.

"Don't pretend like she wasn't asking for it," Elena responded flippantly before they exited the house and got out of earshot.

"She's capable of getting worked up," Caroline mused, rubbing at her fast-bruising cheek. Stefan and Klaus looked at her with worried expressions. "She's switched off all right, but she hasn't walked off the edge—not yet."

"I'm sorry," Stefan said tiredly. "I didn't realize things would get so… heated." Caroline shook her head.

"It's _Elena_ —how could anybody have predicted that?" she sighed. "I hope she turns it back on soon."

"You and me both," Stefan agreed. Caroline glanced at the doorway, but Klaus was gone. He'd responded to the sound of violence, but apparently he didn't want to see her right now.

As Caroline continued to talk with Stefan, getting all of the highlights of the last month that Meredith and Klaus had left out, a pit formed deep in her stomach at the thought of the original hybrid. She hadn't meant him to overhear her conversation with Elena. And the worst part was, even though she'd only admitted it aloud for Elena's benefit, she _was_ being honest! She _did_ have… were they feelings? Gratitude, certainly. That was the major feeling. She had that in abundance, and she still needed to tell him about it—about what it had meant to her when he said what he did. Of course, now he probably wouldn't want to talk about it. _Thanks_ , Elena. She could hear the faint wet sounds of brushes against canvas. Was he killing time, or brooding, she wondered.

"Oh," Stefan added as he got up to leave. "I almost forgot." He pulled her phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. Then they hugged again.

"Will you be okay?" he breathed in her ear.

"Yeah," she whispered back, nodding slightly. Stefan pulled away, still looking worried. Caroline smiled reassuringly up at him. No doubt, this was going to be incredibly awkward, but she got the impression that Stefan was worried about her actual safety, and she wasn't at all concerned about that. Klaus wasn't going to hurt her. Stefan nodded, and headed out, apparently trusting her judgment.

He'd brought her laptop, and a flash-drive with notes and reading lists from all of her classes. Caroline surveyed them critically once she was left alone. Her best friend was a sociopath, the guy she owed her life too was probably very upset with her, and her GPA was in the toilet after a month-long absence from school. Since she had control over exactly one of those things, she opened up her laptop and plugged in the USB stick. She was afraid to turn on her phone—it had probably fried its brains out with a month's worth of notifications.

In true Caroline fashion, she immersed herself in the task at hand, and her eyes flickered back and forth at an incredible rate as she read and comprehended at vamp-speed. Sometimes she'd glance at the clock in the corner of her screen. Hours were flashing by like minutes as she ran to keep up with the rest of the school. She had to graduate on time—with Elena and Bonnie and Matt and… Well, it was doubtful that Tyler would graduate with them, at this point, she admitted to herself miserably.

Naturally, it was right when she started thinking about Tyler that a pair of footsteps approached her, and she looked up to find Klaus entering the room.

"Alphonse is preparing dinner," he said, with none of the rage and hurt that she'd expected to hear in his voice. He seemed calm; normal. "Will you eat downstairs, or shall I have him bring it up here for you?"

"Up here is good," she said, glancing up briefly before returning to her reading. "I'm trying to catch up on a month's worth of schoolwork," she added with a little self-deprecating laugh.

"You're avoiding me." It was an accusation, but he just said it calmly, like a fact.

"No," she denied, a knee-jerk reaction. "I just said, I'm—" she looked up at his stoic face, and saw, buried deep down behind his eyes, a hint of the anger she'd expected. Which reminded her of why she'd embarked on such an impossible project in the first place. "Totally avoiding you," she finished, wincing.

"If you're concerned about what Elena said, I'm not upset," he assured her lightly. She looked up again in surprise. That _was_ what she'd been worried about… "Don't look so shocked, love," he continued with a bit of a laugh. "This sort of thing is par for the course with you."

"I see," she nodded, closing her laptop. Her head hurt from reading uninterrupted for so long—a fact she hadn't realized until she'd looked away. "So, then… if I said something deep right now, would you assume it was a lie?"

"Probably," he admitted, "if I'm being quite frank." Caroline's stomach sank. So much for her plans of a heartfelt thank-you.

"Okay," she said, setting the laptop aside and getting up. "I think I'll come down for dinner after all—my eyes are about to fall out."

"What mysterious deep thing were you going to say?" he asked with determined casualness as they walked downstairs. She glanced at him over her shoulder, face unreadable.

"I'll tell you some other time," she said softly, and then headed to the dining room, leaving Klaus with the now-familiar feeling of frustration brought on when he thought that perhaps they were becoming closer, but couldn't bloody read her! He sighed silently, and then followed her to the table.


	10. Saying Goodbye

Terry came over early the next morning and forged Caroline a new daylight ring in the dawn sunlight. Caroline had been hoping Bonnie would do it, but the Bennett witch was off the radar, spending all of her time with Shane, and not answering her phone. So, she thanked Terry—who was really a very nice lady, as far as witches went—and walked out onto the window balcony to test the spell. She didn't catch fire, and stood out in the freezing early February air for several minutes, watching her misty breath make abstract patterns in front of her face.

Afterwards, Terry and Meredith gave her a full check-up. She was still weak, but other than her left hand, she was basically in good shape. Meredith said that by the end of next week, at her current rate of healing, she'd be completely back to normal. Terry dealt with her hand, weaving spells, applying ointments, and changing her veritable glove of bandages.

"That hand was touched by powerful magic," the witch explained as she finished. "It may never fully heal or look the same. But you will regain nearly a full range of movement, and soon it will not be so fragile. As for other side effects, and appearance, I can't yet say." Caroline nodded, gently flexing her fingers as far as she could.

Meredith left, since there wasn't anything else she could do with her scientific knowledge, and Caroline took the opportunity to talk to Terry briefly about what she'd heard during her coma.

"What do you think it means?" she asked after she'd given the witch the highlights. Since she didn't know Terry very well, it was easier to talk about this sort of thing with her—like talking to a professional, instead of admitting something to an individual. "I mean, what kind of magic could've made that happen—could've let me come back just because I was determined too?" Terry was already shaking her head.

"I heard your friends and family talking to you when I'd come to work on spells," she said. "And no known power could've saved you from what happened. However, nature possesses so many mysterious forms of magic—the magic held by the earth, the magic that blows in the wind, or burns in the sun, and no witch living can ever learn about all of them. And by far, the greatest and most mysterious among these is love."

Caroline's head spun a little at that, and her stomach flipped. She hadn't expected to hear it said in such a bald-faced way. "Love…" That wasn't all, thought, was it? Stuff like that only happened in kids' books and romance movies; real life was never so simple. Terry left soon afterwards, and the young vampire settled back onto her bed, logging on to Netflix, and preparing for what she hoped would be a wonderfully lazy, drama-free day.

Of course, that was when Matt turned up, looking shifty and awkward. He asked how she was feeling, how it was living in Casa de Mikaelson, and told her about some craziness going down between the cheer squad and the football team. Then he got to the point.

"They're holding a memorial to Jeremy tomorrow," he explained, and Caroline dropped her eyes to her knees, a small lump forming in her throat. Stefan had mentioned that—along with the fact that Elena had burned down her house with Jeremy's body inside it, which was why there wouldn't be an actual funeral…

"When I called Tyler to let him know Jer died, he…"

"He wants to come," Caroline finished for him as he floundered.

"I told him it was suicide," Matt sighed, scratching at the back of his head, "but he and Jer were pretty good friends, and he thought maybe you could… I mean, I told him I'd ask, so…" Caroline sighed. Klaus was out that morning, luckily, so they could speak normally.

"Tyler wants me to convince Klaus to let him back into town and _not_ remove his head," she summarized.

"He said he'll only be here for the day, if he comes," Matt said, nodding in agreement with what she'd already surmised. "He and the pack are living in some rustic, backwater town in Middle-of-Nowhere, USA. I guess they're pretty comfy there too, although still pretty concerned about Klaus turning up one day and slaughtering them all. He just wants to say goodbye, y'know?"

"Well," Caroline responded, a little grouchily, "you can tell him from me that I already know what the answer will be, but I'll ask. And tell him he's a dick for not calling me himself, will you?"

"I'll tell him," Matt agreed. Then he looked at his watch. "Well, I gotta go to work. Hope you feel better soon, Care." He hugged her, and then left.

It was a little irritating, Caroline reflected when she was left alone, that Tyler would make an effort to come to town for Jeremy's service, but not once during the month when _she_ was on her deathbed. He'd known about it—Stefan said Matt had called and told him pretty soon after everything went down—but unless the guys were omitting some key details, he hadn't ever suggested coming to see her. Of course he couldn't have done anything for her, had he come, but he could do even less for Jeremy, who was actually dead. He could have at least tried to say goodbye to _her_ …

Realizing that she was just frustrating herself by thinking like this, she resolutely opened her laptop back up and found some documentary that one of her teachers had recommended via Stefan. She also grabbed a spiral and a pen to take notes, fully intending to distract herself for a good two hours.

By the time she finished her movie, Klaus had returned home, and Hazel was knocking on her door, asking where she planned to eat lunch. She'd almost grown accustomed to living there, and it was weird to realize that, now that she had a daylight ring, she could actually move back home. But the prospect of packing up all of her accumulated stuff—which various well-meaning individuals had been moving over all month, in case she should ever want it when she awoke—seemed like way too large a task, considering how exhausted she was these days. As she walked down the stairs, a small, selfish voice in the back of her mind whispered that if she just didn't say anything, then the others, who had been living in these circumstances for over a month now, wouldn't say notice anything either, and she could keep on enjoying the servants and silk sheets and Alphonse's cooking, and…

Her stomach did a backflip, and she silenced the little selfish voice. But, it didn't really need to say anything. Because the minute Klaus opened his mouth, with that _damn sexy accent,_ she knew there was another reason she liked living with him.

' _Shut up,_ ' she told the voice as she sat down and Hazel brought in a bag of B+.

' _I didn't say anything,'_ the voice responded smugly.

"So, I have a favor to ask," she said after she'd had a drink. No point in putting it off.

"What do you need?" he asked, taking a sip of his own glass of blood as Hazel and Vera brought in the actual food.

"It's not for me, actually," she admitted, swirling the blood in her glass. "You know the school is having a service for Jeremy tomorrow?" He nodded.

"He and Tyler were pretty good friends," she finished in a bit of a rush, looking down at the table. Then she raised her eyes and met his. His face said he didn't like where this was going. "Tyler wants to come. And he was hoping I could convince you not to kill him."

"He can't seriously think that even _you_ could get me to forgive him," Klaus scoffed with an irritable laugh. "I'm sorry, love, but I do draw the line somewhere."

"I didn't say anything about _forgiveness_ ," Caroline backpedaled. "Just a graveside truce— _one_ day."

"The boy betrayed me, turned my hybrids against me, and tried to bury me alive," Klaus snapped. "I will kill him on sight. If I don't drag it out, _that_ will be mercy."

"You killed him for a magical experiment, took his freedom away, and made him try to murder his loved ones, including me," Caroline shot back without missing a beat, and then took another sip of blood. "Pretty sure you're about even."

Klaus was about to respond to that, but his mind supplied relevant memories so strong that they took his breath away, and he had to take another deep draught of blood to hide his pause.

" _Please!" Tyler was red-faced and teary-eyed. After that horrid game of chicken with Ripper Stefan trying to drive Elena off of Wickery Bridge, Klaus had completely forgotten about his order to Tyler that morning. But seeing the boy's face reminded him—he'd told him to bite his girlfriend, that tall blonde vampire girl he'd glimpsed from time to time. He'd wanted to hurt Stefan by Caroline's death, but now he needed to make up with him, or at least pretend too._

_But, Tyler had crossed him too, when he'd initially refused his order. He wasn't just going to do it for him out of kindness of his heart._

" _I love her," Tyler pleaded brokenly. "I can't believe I hurt her… I was supposed to be the one to keep her safe. All of the people she loves have tried to kill her, her father tortured her, her previous boyfriends betrayed her, used her, fed on her…" he was crying. "Please! I'll do anything! Just don't make me kill her."_

_A little curiosity took root in his mind. Caroline Forbes hadn't seemed like the sort of person with a lot of hardship in her life. Rebekah had described her as perky and cheerful. Whenever he saw her, she was made up, hair curled, surrounded by other empty-headed girls… 'Her father tortured her…" that one phrase echoed through his thoughts. That was something they had in common…_

_Well, he reasoned as he walked up the stairs to her room, he_ did _need to make peace with Stefan. Under that pretense, it couldn't hurt anything to speak with her—just once; find out if deep down they were as similar as he was beginning to suspect. He turned the corner, and stood at the threshold of her bedroom._

"One day," he found himself saying. It was damn hard to hate _him_ while he was thinking about _her_ … Perhaps he was losing his edge. "At midnight, it's open season," he warned as Caroline's face broke into a smile. He needed to get the threat part out before her happy expression cooled his inner fire. "If I see so much as a finger belonging to another hybrid, or he tries anything remotely suspicious, he will die by inches." Caroline was nodding.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem," she responded immediately. "I'll let him know. Thank you," she said seriously, looking into his eyes. Something about her expression told him that there was something else she wasn't saying—something deeper behind the words. But she didn't elaborate, and looked away again a moment later, leaving him hanging. Again.

-0-

Elena didn't come to the service. Caroline was both surprised and not surprised at the same time; her friend's humanity was off, so she'd both be emotionally capable of attending, and also have no reason to do so. People spoke about Jeremy; his favorite art teacher, some of the people he'd worked with at the Grill, Bonnie—who had emerged from whatever rock she'd crawled under after the island—Matt… Tyler sat with Matt and Bonnie during the service, and Caroline sat a little further back, with Stefan. She felt awkward, being around Tyler, and frankly, a funeral wasn't an ideal place to bring up their relationship woes.

She felt bad for Damon; he and Jeremy had become… well, _sort of_ friends while they'd been in Chicago together. But, he'd agreed that it would be healthiest for Elena not to come and be reminded of why she'd turned her feelings off in the first place, so he was off with her, doing god-only-knew what, probably involving drunk college students and blood orgies. At the end of the service, everyone lit candles, and she noticed Stefan lighting two—one for himself, and one for his brother. Bonnie had also lit one on Elena's behalf, although she seemed remarkably calm. So, Shane was probably still filling her head with craziness about bringing Jeremy back. Caroline sighed as they filed out of the school gym and into the cloudy February day. Just what she needed—more drama. Bonnie gave Matt a quick hug and then vanished immediately, confirming Caroline's suspicions.

"Hey, Care," Tyler greeted her. The air between them was tense. Stefan and Matt looked at each other, and then Stefan said something about getting back to make sure Elena was okay, and Matt said something about calling to get his work schedule, and just like that, the two of them were alone. Caroline scuffed the pavement with the toe of her shoe.

"Hey," she greeted him back. "What've you been up too lately?"

"Oh, you know," he hedged. "Getting settled, running for my life… thanks, by the way. Matt told me you got Klaus to let me back into town for the service—I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Of course. He was your friend."

"So… I think I could cut the tension with a butter knife right about now," Tyler admitted. They both laughed. "Take a walk with me?" he asked, gesturing towards his family's old property, which began at the edge of the parking lot.

"Sure," she agreed. It was a good idea to talk about things, she thought, as he led the way into the familiar woods. Closure was always important.

A thin layer of frost covered the skeletal trees, making them gleam and shimmer when little rays of sunlight penetrated the cloud cover above. Beneath the two immortals' feet lay a coating of dead brown leaves, which made familiar crunching sounds under their tread. Tyler talked animatedly about the little town where he and the pack had settled—although he omitted the exact "where" part, for the safety of everyone involved. Apparently Kim had mellowed out a lot after her brush with Klaus-death. Wes had a human girlfriend already—Natalie—and was making himself right at home. No one had seen so much as an eyelash of Hayley.

"Yeah, I'd hope she would be smarter than to show her face," Caroline laughed, stepping around a tree branch. They'd headed for the old cellar, sort of out of habit, she assumed. "Apparently she was working for that creepy professor Shane the whole time." Tyler shook his head in disgust as they came within sight of the cellar entrance. His footsteps slowed down.

"So…" he began, and then plunged right in. "Everyone is grateful to you for saving them from Klaus, so Kim and the others won't try to hurt you again."

"Good," Caroline said, nodding.

"So, I want you to come with me when I leave," Tyler finished. Caroline blinked. That wasn't what she'd expected.

"The only reason I couldn't take you with before was that I wasn't sure it was safe, you know, with the others," he explained. "Hybrids against a vampire can't possibly end well. But things are different now. You were willing to do it before," he reminded her.

"I… I know I was," Caroline started, floundering. "By Tyler, I mean… That was a matter of life and death. Y'know, I'm still in high school—I have to graduate yet… I…" Words failed her, and she glanced down at her shoes. Tyler was making patterns in the leaves with the toe of his boot.

"But you're in danger here," he pushed. "All the time—this town is one big melting pot of the supernatural."

"Yeah," she agreed, "and a lot of those dangerous supernaturals are my _friends_ , Tyler. I can't just pack up and leave them!"

"It's not like they're stuck in this town, Care," he continued, gesturing widely at the open space around him. "They're choosing to stay on a sinking ship—I'm asking you to let me get you out before things get worse and you get hurt!"

"What things?" Caroline asked quickly. "Do you know something?"

"I know that the crazy-ass immortal Silas is on the loose," Tyler admitted. "If a quarter of the legends I've been hearing about the guy are true, I don't want you anywhere near him!" Caroline was already shaking her head.

"I can't abandon everyone, Tyler," she insisted. "What about my mom, huh? I mean, yeah, I could look Elena and Stefan up a century from now and we can all go out and get drinks, and maybe Bonnie will to an aging spell or something, but my mom and Matt are as human as they come. I don't get second chances with them. I'm sorry." She knew he was just trying to keep her safe, but it was really starting to get under her skin that he'd walked off the face of the earth for a month without trying to contact her, and now all he wanted to do was convince her to elope with him, instead of having a rational discussion of the relationship problems that had got them here in the first place.

"So, you're staying for your mom and Matt," Tyler clarified, still digging around with his foot.

"Yeah, and the fact that this is my _home_ ," she snapped.

"And that's the only reason?" Tyler demanded quietly, looking up at her. Her eyes became steely.

"Yes, actually," she hissed. He bent over and grabbed a handful of leaves, started running them through his fingers and dropping them one by one. "Why? Are you implying that I would _need_ another reason, besides my home and my family?"

His eyes met hers, and they were burning with suppressed rage. Her jaw was set, her gaze steady. She was determined not to go there with him. Even _she_ didn't know how she felt about Klaus. All things being equal, she certainly wouldn't leave Tyler over him, but at the same time, he was slowly becoming someone important to her. Beyond that, she really, honestly didn't have a clue.

"I'm gonna kill him," Tyler announced softly, dropping the last of the leaves to the ground, and rolling a little piece of twig between his fingers.

"Great," Caroline sighed, not even bothering to waste time asking who he meant. " _More_ genocide. First you ask me to elope with you, then you tell me you're going to kill my entire sire line, including myself. You're not making sense."

"I met a witch named Massak recently who wants Klaus dead as much as I do," Tyler explained. "He said if we could find an object with a little bit of magic similar to Klaus's own personal power, we could bond the sire line to the object instead. Then we could kill him with impunity."

"And what mystery object do you think you're going to find?" Caroline demanded skeptically. Then her eyes focused in on his hand.

He was holding a fang.

A vampire fang.

A vampire fang that had been knocked out by an elbow-strike to the mouth in this very spot over a month ago, one cold winter's night.

"Oh my god," she breathed.

"He told me where and how to find it," Tyler said quietly. "After the spell, we can encase it in concrete and put all kinds of protective magic on it. Everyone will be safe, he will be dead, and everything will go back to the way it's supposed to be. We can be together."

"And you used me to get into town to find it," Caroline whispered in horror.

"I couldn't call you and explain," Tyler protested. "He might have been listening! Matt says… Matt says you've been living at his house." The words were clearly a struggle. He looked up at her after a second.

"That's… complicated," she said lamely. This was all so messed up—she didn't know what to think. Tyler's face hardened.

"You don't want him dead," Tyler accused. Caroline looked down. It would be a lie to deny it, and he knew her too well to buy what she sold. Tyler laughed, and it was a short, bitter, heartbreaking laugh. "What had he _done_ to you?" he snapped. "What's he given you, to get you on his side like this?"

"You think I'm being _bribed_? Or _threatened_?" Caroline snarled, offended. She took an aggressive step forward. "Maybe I'm tired of murder," she suggested.

"He kills people every day!" Tyler shouted. "The lunatic you're protecting is a monster, Caroline! He doesn't deserve to live!"

"You don't think I know that?" she shrieked. "I fought him too, remember? In this very spot! And let's not forget that he's tried to have me killed! I know what he's done, okay?"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU DEFENDING HIM?" he bellowed.

"I _DON'T KNOW_ , OKAY?" she retorted furiously.

"You have feelings for him," Tyler stated flatly. "Don't you." Caroline swallowed. Why did everyone and their dog want to know that all of a sudden?

"I—" she started, but Tyler cut her off.

"Don't lie to me!" he snarled in her face, flashing close and grabbing her shoulders.

Caroline could only stand there, wide-eyed with fear, unable to speak. Tyler's eyes were deep, angry gold.

"I can't have you getting in my way," he breathed.

"What?" she whispered, but then his fangs were sinking into her neck. She screamed, more from shock than from actual pain. She bunched her arms to fling him off of her, but his hands locked around her head, there was a snap, and she knew no more.

-0-

"So," Massak commented as the hybrid boy climbed in the passenger seat of the car, face stoic, hands clenched. "Why did you feel the need to kill your girlfriend? I thought you wanted to make sure she was protected from Klaus." The islander witch had transformed himself impressively by cutting his hair, washing off the distinctive face-paint, and putting on ordinary 21st Century clothes, but he still had an air of wildness and ancient magic about him.

"That's exactly what I did," Tyler explained, voice quiet and tight. "I proved with certainty that she had nothing to do with the plan, and was an innocent victim. She'll wake back up after we've had a head start, and then Klaus will heal her from the venom. She's safer this way, until the spell is done and Klaus is dead."

Massak just shook his head as he put the car in gear and drove away. The strange things people came up with to defend the people they loved…

In the back seat, another man sat, cloaked from the hybrid's sight, smiling in Massak's rearview mirror. Such pitiful creatures walked the earth in this age… so easily manipulated. Of course, he would have preferred if the hybrid had actually _killed_ the girl; according to what he'd seen in Bonnie's mind, she had a habit of preventing mass-death. But, it was deeply against Tyler's nature to harm her, and he didn't really want to expend too much effort on her. Bonnie's opinion was probably exaggerated.

Now all he had to do was ditch the hybrid, give the fang to Bonnie, and teach her how to channel a murder weapon using expression. She'd need a boost if she was going to kill twelve witches for him. He decided not to kill Tyler; he'd have had a hell of a time finding something so small himself, after all.

-0-

When Caroline awoke, the forest was as dark as fresh tar. She groaned and tried to stretch out the aches from lying at an awkward angle across a tree root, and then gasped in pain. Her neck was on fire.

 _Tyler_ … she realized with horror. He'd bitten her and left her for dead. But why? What could have upset him _that much_? Tears welled up in her eyes, both from physical pain and emotional agony. Well, that was one way to break up with a girl pretty definitively.

She wanted to curl up and sob, right there on the forest floor, but then she'd be dead by morning from the hybrid venom racing through her veins. For a minute, she even considered letting it kill her. Her best friends were a sociopath and a brainwashed psycho, and her boyfriend had just dumped her by trying to kill her. Despair was a cold feeling, and she shivered. Maybe it was just the bite messing with her nervous system.

The trees were squirming and writhing around her. Some of them stood up and moved, their roots like many-branched legs supporting the trunk's weight against the frozen ground. An owl flew overhead, smashing right into one of the moving trees and shattering into hundreds of feathers, which gathered into groups of two and flew away on their own. A tiny, sane part of her brain told Caroline that she was hallucinating, and she tried to breathe deeply to clear her mind, but the air stank of blood and ozone and truck exhaust. Was she lying on the highway?

" _Caroline…"_

She found herself laughing hysterically at the thought that she might be lying on the highway, pulling Damon's favorite trick.

" _Caroline."_

Damon emerged from the gloom, and stood over her, smiling toothily and offering her a hand. But she didn't really want to go kill people with _him_ —she'd much rather hang out with Stefan. Although she couldn't kill people if she was with him… there was some reason why that was a problem, but she couldn't recall what.

" _Caroline! Listen to me!"_

An unfamiliar voice was calling her, and she covered her ears, moaning. It was too loud.

" _If you can hear me, then you're on the edge of death. You have to call him,"_ the voice insisted. _"You have to call Niklaus, right now, and tell him what happened."_

She didn't want to call Klaus, although she wasn't sure why. Maybe she felt guilty that she only ever talked to him when she needed something. Yeah, that was it. They should go out and get lunch some time, just to say they'd done it…

" _If you die,"_ the voice reminded her, _"it will_ hurt _him, terribly. Do you want to do that?"_

Of course she didn't want to hurt him—he was the Big Bad Wolf and it was his job to hunt her, not the other way around. The world would turn upside down and shake everyone off into space if she hurt him.

" _Caroline!"_ the voice screamed, and she felt pressure in her injured left hand, like someone was squeezing it with all of their strength.

The trees were still and silent, rooted to the ground, and although Caroline's mind was still blurry, she was able to dig her phone out of her pocket and find his number.

"Klaus?" she croaked as he answered. "Help… me…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original posting of this work on fanfiction, a discrepancy about Doppelgangers was brought to my attention. How can more doppelgangers be born if Elena didn't have children before she turned?
> 
> In TVD lore, there are two different explanations for the existence of doppelgangers. The first, explained by Katherine when she was talking about the hybrid curse, was that the doppelgangers were created as a way to break the curse, because every spell must have a loophole. This would mean that Tatia was the progenitor of the doppelganger line.
> 
> However, the second explanation is that doppelgangers, male and female, are the killable versions of Silas and Amara that nature created in order to provide balance when those two became immortal. This would mean that Tatia herself was simply another doppelganger.
> 
> Since Stefan didn't father any children while human either, and yet Tom exists, and as far as we can tell, neither Silas nor Amara had any offspring themselves, and yet all of the doppelgangers exist, I'm inclined to think that the whole "doppelgangers go down in their ancestors' bloodlines" thing is simply a plot-hole. However, a more gracious explanation would be that Katherine was simply mistaken on a few points when she initially explained it. Since we know Stefan keeps up with his extended family (he lived with Zach, he visited with Zach's predecessors, he provided for Sarah etc…) if Tom was in his bloodline, he would have already known that he existed prior to Season 5.
> 
> As far as Red Queen is concerned, Doppelgangers are created by nature, typically in the same bloodline because it's simply the most natural way the DNA will go to create physically identical people. If the bloodline is made unavailable, life will still find a way, as it did back then, and the doppelgangers will be born into the next most similar bloodline.
> 
> Incidentally, in my head-canon when I started writing this, I had assumed that Nadia Petrova was married and had two sons before her husband was killed by a vampire, involving her suddenly and violently in the world of magic and mayhem. This event is what got her started asking questions she shouldn't have asked, and eventually led to her learning that she was adopted, and going to search for her birth mother, during which quest she was turned into a vampire, and then couldn't return to her own children for fear of harming them. They were raised by her husband's sister, and lived healthy human lives before dying of natural causes. 
> 
> But, back to the point, Elena is descended from the younger son, but the older son had a family as well, so technically speaking the next female doppelganger could be born from his bloodline—or if Isobel had a sibling, they could have had kids, or… you get the idea. But as long as Silas and Amara exist, every few hundred years, nature WILL create a balance, by any means necessary.


	11. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

When you're a human, and things are going wrong, particularly in the boyfriend department, there are a few typical coping mechanisms. One is to eat every sugary piece of junk food in a twelve-mile radius, and listen to loud, angry music. Another is to find a cute guy, get comfortably buzzed and, well, rebound.

When you're a vampire, however, the post-breakup process is much more streamlined, because everything is combined into one single response: eat everybody.

Caroline awoke that morning feeling depressed, thirsty, betrayed, exhausted, thirsty, confused, and above all, thirsty. She'd been pretty out of it the previous night, although she remembered Klaus feeding her his blood, and her sobbing out the whole story of what had happened—along with a bunch of other stuff that she'd been hallucinating, which now mortified her to remember. He'd carried her home, put her in bed, and then presumably gone after Tyler—

Carried her to _his house_! She caught the errant thought like one might correct a mistaken word, three seconds too late. Her _home_ was several streets away; she was just staying here while she was unwell, dammit. She sighed, and flung her arms up over her eyes. She couldn't call Bonnie about the Tyler drama, because she was off doing black magic with Shane and not answering her phone. She couldn't call Elena because Elena had her humanity switched off and would be absolutely no help at all. She could talk to her mom, and her mom would be sympathetic, having been in a similar situation, but she was probably at work, and didn't know yet that Caroline's life had been in danger yet again this semester. She didn't really want to freak her out just yet.

When Amber came in to open up the curtains and ask her where she wanted breakfast, the only thing that prevented Caroline from taking Klaus up on his offer that first morning and ripping into her jugular was the vivid memories of her own time as an edible accessory. As it was, she asked the woman to bring out three times as much blood as she usually drank in the mornings, and by the time she finished eating, and drinking, her stomach hurt on top of everything else that was going against her today.

She took a long shower, blasting music so loud it almost hurt her ears, and then decided to go to school, although she really could have stayed home—stayed _out_ , she reminded herself sternly, she wasn't at _home_ —another week. She needed a little normalcy to cut through all the drama. She remembered that Stefan had said the same thing about Elena—today was the day he was taking her back to school too. That was a drawback, but Caroline Forbes didn't make a habit of avoiding places she wanted to be just because there was a mean-girl power struggle going on, and she had no intention of starting now. She was a vampire, for Pete's sake, not a powder puff.

Everyone believed she'd been in a car accident, and Meredith had given her a heavy-duty brace for her injured hand to make it look like a broken wrist, substantiating the story. That, and the fact that she was moving a little bit more slowly, sold the act without her having to say anything, and she got a lot of sympathy from a lot of people. She also got a lot of crap from the cheer squad, who were preparing for regionals with their captain out of commission. That was a shame, really. She'd hoped to walk away with a medal that year—they had a really good group.

At lunch, she sat with Elena, Stefan and Matt, and thankfully emotionless Elena didn't seem to hold grudges. She was mean and abrasive, of course, but no more so than most everybody Caroline knew at school, so it was a pretty uneventful meal, on the whole.

"Have you started drinking vervain again?" Stefan asked conversationally. Matt had filled a water bottle from the fountain in the cafeteria corner, and was mixing it with the bottles Stefan and Elena had brought from home.

"Not yet," she admitted. "Meredith said I'm still pretty frail, and frankly I'm not in a hurry to start drinking acid again—I've had a rough month."

"Care, you've been _living_ in _Klaus's house_ ," Matt reminded her incredulously. She shrugged.

"What's he gonna do?" she quipped.

"You trust him?" Stefan's tone was carefully controlled—she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or serious or a bit of both.

"Well… yeah, I guess," she admitted. The truth was, she hadn't really thought about it at all. She didn't think he had any reason to compel her, and didn't really think he would, anyway… So, then, she supposed she _must_ trust him.

"Although, I guess I really should keep building immunity," she decided, unscrewing the top of her own water bottle and pushing it towards Matt, who topped it off with a quarter cup of vervain water before chugging down the last of the bottle himself. Caroline sipped the lightly toxic water. It burned, but no worse than when she'd had soda for the first time as a child, and she'd developed a taste for that, eventually. Of course, this stuff wasn't fruit-flavored or filled with sugar and other delicious chemicals. That _probably_ made the difference.

The conversation after that was pretty boring and mundane, mostly consisting of Matt and Stefan discussing cars and pro hockey, until Elena brought up the semi-related subject of cheerleading.

"Regionals are coming up, right?" she checked. Caroline nodded sadly.

"Yeah," she said, "although with me still out of commission, we're not really looking at walking away with a sweeping victory this year."

"Could you get me back on the squad?" Elena asked immediately. Caroline looked up in surprise.

"Well… yeah, technically," she agreed, "I'm captain. But I thought you hated cheerleading."

"That was before," Elena explained simply. "Now I think it would be fun to hop around and toss people in the air. It's not like the routines are that hard." Caroline had to admit that she had a point. As a vampire, Elena was fully equipped to jump in at a moment's notice, and with her, they might have a chance to pull a win.

"Okay," she said. "I'll talk to some people and get you back in." The bell rang shortly afterwards, and the group of vampires split up for their afternoon classes.

True to her word, Caroline had Elena registered back on the squad by the end of the day, and that Saturday morning, the school gymnasium filled up with scantily clad high school acrobats from all over the county.

Caroline came to watch. It was another excellent distraction from her constant thirst, depression, and the tension between her and Klaus. He'd driven out to track Tyler down several times, but wound up back in his own driveway over and over. He'd concluded that the younger hybrid must be working with a skilled witch, who was using magic to confuse his paths. He was usually gone when Caroline was there and conscious, and vice-versa, so they hadn't really had a conversation since the whole hybrid-pissing-contest-nightmare. She knew he didn't blame her for what had happened—almost _dying_ was apparently enough to clear her name—but that didn't mean he wasn't upset about it.

Tyler had tried to…

She shut down that train of thought before it could leave the station.

She really, really couldn't handle thinking about it. Not now. Not yet.

So, she sat down on the bleachers, bit into a warm, salty soft pretzel, and settled in to watch the competition. The girls were doing brilliantly; having a vampire on the team was really a fantastic asset. Although, Elena was wearing a royal blue ribbon in her hair which stood out a lot from the deep reds of her uniform.

It was halfway through the competition when Caroline put two and two together, noticing the girl in the little blue dress with the black scarf wrapped carefully around her neck. She glanced meaningfully at Stefan, and then at the girl. His eyes widened, and then he silently buried his face in his hands for a minute before getting up and slipping off to curtail his hungry ex-girlfriend. Caroline sat through the rest of the competition, not able to let herself care about what might be going on with Elena at that moment. She had to trust Stefan to deal with it.

After the event finished up, Caroline took a winding route out of the school, wanting to be alone with a water fountain so that if she choked on her daily dose of vervain, no one would see her. Once she'd taken care of that, and washed it down with the last of the B+ she'd carried in her thermos, she headed back to the Salvatores' house to see if Elena was still two steps off the cliff of crazy.

She was moderately surprised to find the house full of people, drinking, dancing, and generally having a good time.

"If I'd known there was an after-party," she yelled to Stefan over the noise when she found him, "I'd have dressed up. Where's Elena?"

"Where do you think?" Stefan called back, nodding towards the bar. Elena was standing on top of it, dancing with two of the out-of-town cheerleaders. Although the whole situation was obviously very dangerous, Caroline couldn't help but think that this scene looked so wonderfully _right_.

"I'd almost forgotten what that looked like," she commented.

"What?" Stefan asked, "Elena smiling?"

"No," Caroline laughed, " _fun_." A wave of jealousy flooded through her. Fun was what she'd sorely like to be having right about now. But, if she turned off her emotions, then they'd have two crazies to deal with, and that would hardly be fair to anyone. Besides, that would just delay the inevitable. She'd have to turn them back on eventually. And then every time she thought about Tyler—which was often—she'd think about…

Her morbid train of thought was cut off abruptly when Stefan picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her out onto the dance floor, clearly deciding that it was time for the two of them to start having a little of that fun.

When her mom showed up to break up the party, at first, Caroline pretended not to notice her. She was due a little wildness—honestly, it was impressive that she hadn't found a seedy bar and eaten all of the patrons yet. But then she realized that the person her mother was talking too about stopping the party was Elena—whose emotions were turned off…

She wasn't fast enough—her speed and strength hadn't fully returned yet. But at her scream of warning, Stefan looked up and dashed in fast enough to get between the suddenly very toothy Elena and the very human sheriff. Caroline ran up to them, but as she fussed over her mom, demanding to know if she was hurt, Elena vanished through the door, into the night. Stefan followed her.

-0-

Klaus was having considerable trouble deciding what to be most enraged about, as he poured himself some scotch and held the bottom of the glass to his temple, in an attempt to subdue his growing stress headache. Tyler Lockwood was trying to kill him. The cure was still AWOL. Tyler had used Caroline to get to him, proving that he had a weakness. Silas was awake and at large. Tyler had tried to _kill_ Caroline, horrifically. Damon and Rebekah were doing some sort of covert investigation, trying to find Katerina, and if they got to her—unlikely, of course, but possible—Rebekah would down the cure, and that would be that.

He honestly didn't know which way to jump first; kill Tyler, kill Katherine, comfort Caroline, kill Damon, dagger Rebekah, search and destroy Silas… He'd like most to start with finding and eviscerating Tyler, but that damn witch was quite the complication.

The front door opened, and familiar footsteps entered, shuffling more slowly than usual. He looked up as Caroline walked in, purse hanging from one listless hand, face dark. She moved like she had a massive weight dragging her down as she dropped her purse on the table and sank onto the couch.

"Rough day?" he guessed, reaching behind him and grabbing the decanter and another glass. She nodded.

"Elena went after my mom," she said miserably. "On top of… everything else." Klaus leaned forward, handing her the full glass of alcohol, which she accepted with a tiny spasm in her lips as they tried and failed to smile. She took a long drink, and then sighed, holding the glass between her hands and leaning her elbows on her legs.

"Did you… find him?" she asked finally, eyes riveted on the leg of the little table between them.

"No," Klaus admitted, pouring himself another glass and setting the decanter down in the middle of the table. "He appears to have magical allies helping him in that department." Caroline nodded again. Klaus wasn't sure if she wanted to know because she wanted to see justice done, or if she wanted to know because she was still in love with him, and would be saddened by his death. He hoped it was the former. Tyler was going to die—no two ways about that—but that didn't mean he had any desire to cause _her_ further pain.

"I am so, _so_ sorry," she said in a low voice. "I never thought he would… I mean, he…" she couldn't finish. After a few moments, a tear dropped into her glass, making little ripples in the amber liquid.

"You couldn't have known," Klaus responded quietly, shaking his head. "You trusted him."

"He… tried to kill me." There it was. The thought that had been tormenting her from her subconscious all day. Another tear fell, this one landing on the hardwood floor. She looked up then, but to the side, so she could scrub at her eyes with the back of her bandaged hand. It was no use—they kept coming now, clouding her vision and running down her face. She couldn't breathe, her chest felt so constricted. She gripped her glass a little too tightly, and it shattered, spilling the last swallow of scotch onto the floor, and scattering clear shards across her shoes. Some of them had embedded in her hand.

"Easy there, love," Klaus cautioned, appearing at her side and taking her hand in both of his. Apparently, 'comfort Caroline' was going to be at the top of his priority list tonight. As her skin healed, it pushed out most of the glass, but a few bits were stubborn and oddly shaped, and Klaus carefully removed them with his steady artist's fingers. Afterwards, her skin healed over perfectly, and Klaus gently pulled her to his chest. She buried her face in his shoulder, and her hands fisted tightly into his shirt, staining it with the blood that remained from the healed wounds, although he didn't notice that part until much later.

The only times he ever got to hold her like this was when the world was crashing down around her, like when he'd healed her on her birthday, or that day in the forest, or when she'd awoken from her comatose state. Last night, by the time he'd gotten to her, her body was shaking with sobs, and she hadn't had the strength to stand, or even raise her head. He'd fed her his blood right away, but afterwards she'd been a complete wreck. It had taken her nearly an hour to stop hallucinating, during which time he'd carried her home, and attempted to put her in bed to sleep it off, but then—like now—she'd held onto him with manic strength, although every inch of her trembled so hard it was a miracle she could even make a fist. He'd stayed with her, stroking her hair and holding her close, until she'd finally calmed down enough to sleep. Honestly, the first time the spell had brought him back home instead of out onto the highway, he'd blamed his own distraction; behind his anger at Tyler, there had been an ever-growing fear that perhaps people healed from werewolf bites had worse reactions the next time around. He wouldn't know—there had never _been_ a second healing, before Caroline. Of course, it was more likely that it was just a side effect of her still weakened condition. When she'd intervened in the hybrid fight, she hadn't gotten as far as the fever-and-hallucination part.

He held her, as he'd done last night, but this time, she wasn't dreaming; he couldn't assure her that it wasn't real, that it would all go away soon. Unfortunately, she was upset about breathtakingly real events this time, and there was quite literally nothing he could do to fix it.

Except… there _was_.

He thought about it for a moment. It couldn't really be that simple, could it? But it could. She was upset because of what had happened, and it was never going to happen again, since Tyler Lockwood wasn't going to survive the week, much less ever enter the state of Virginia again.

So, if she _forgot_ her ordeal, it would be just as though it had never happened at all.

Klaus put his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling away. Since she wasn't strung out on werewolf venom tonight, she released him, moving her hands to wipe her face.

"Caroline," he whispered, looking at her intently. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears still free-flowing down her face. His pupils expanded.

"Forget what Tyler did to you," he instructed. He opened his mouth to say more—to tell her that Tyler had come for the funeral, and then left immediately after, but her expression stopped him. Her face had gone from stricken to horrified in an instant.

"Are you," she choked out, "trying to _compel_ me?" Her voice was still thick with crying, and cracked on the word compel. Klaus froze. She hadn't started drinking vervain again after her illness—he'd heard Meredith advise her not too, and she'd agreed! So—

His confusion was cut short when she slapped him across the face.

" _What! The HELL!_ " she gasped out, tendons standing out in her neck from the quick emotional escalation from sorrow into anger. Apparently, she _was_ back on vervain then. He raised his hands in front of him placatingly.

"I was just—" he began, but she'd already bolted to her feet. "Wait!" He jumped to his. This was _not_ supposed to be how things went! He got in front of her—not a difficult thing to do, since she was still stumbling in exhaustion a little.

"Don't," she snapped, sidestepping to pass him. He mirrored her. He would marvel later at how she was probably the only creature on this earth who could hit him like that and then not only walk away unscathed, but merit _him_ trying to make things right.

"I was only trying—" he started again, a bit huffily—couldn't she see that his actions were to help her? Or would be, if she wasn't drinking vervain water…

"To take away my memories," she finished for him, voice harsh from tears and rage. "To get inside my head and control my mind. You know what, I'm not even going to waste the calories it would take to explain to you just how upset this makes me, because YOU ALREAY KNOW! YOU! ALREADY! KNOW, KLAUS!" She was screaming in his face now, punctuating each word with wild, jerky movements of her hands.

"Look at yourself, Caroline!" he shouted back. "A few seconds ago, you gave off the rather strong impression that you didn't want to live with that particular experience in your memories!"

"So you just hack right in without ever asking my opinion about what I should do with the contents of my own mind?" she shrieked back. He wasn't sure if her eyes were bloodshot from anger or crying, but whatever the cause, they certainly were. She tried again to push past him, and he grabbed her arm.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! I HATE YOU!" she screamed, digging the fingers of her free hand into the gap between his palm and her skin so she could rip him off of her. Under her own power, she never could have managed it if he'd wanted to hold on, but her words hit him like a physical blow, and his hand released her reflexively. She fled up the stairs, and slammed the door behind her. A moment later, the shower turned on, but Klaus's hearing was so acute—and so in tune with the sound of her voice—that he could still hear her sobbing brokenly over the sound of the running water.

The next few hours were a blur of emotion for Klaus. Hurt by her words. Angry at her reaction to his good intentions. Angry at himself for not noticing that she was on vervain. A tiny, tiny bit guilty, for not thinking things through for a few more seconds. Frustrated that now she was crying alone in the shower, instead of whatever comfort she might've derived from having someone else near, who cared about her. Disgusted with himself for feeling the lattermost so strongly, when she'd so obviously rejected him, and did not want or deserve his help. Sick, just sick, that everything was going so disastrously wrong.

If Amber and Hazel hadn't been there on their night off to pick up their paychecks, he'd have drained and killed Vera and Linda. As it was, all four women stumbled off to their rooms in a daze by the time he'd taken the edge off of his rage-fueled hunger. He wasn't sure why he'd bothered—he just didn't feel like disposing of bodies tonight.

Caroline was still crying upstairs. He wasn't going to able to concentrate on anything but that sound as long as he could hear it. It was around eleven at night when he got in his car—the sleek black Jaguar that he reserved for recreational use, not the SUV he used in adventure-survival situations—and headed for Richmond, to find some nightclubs where the scantily clad drunk women weren't on vervain.

-0-

"So, we have the explosion at the Young farm, and the vampires killed in Klaus's mansion—we're only missing one group to complete the Expression Triangle." Bonnie's head was resting in her hands. This was all so messed up and confused… the oldest immortal in the world was appearing to her as her dead professor, and they were casually discussing plans for mass-murder.

"What's the third one?" she asked heavily. This was for Jeremy, she reminded herself. She'd do whatever she had to do to get him back; she'd decided that back on the island when Not-Shane had told her he was dead. Besides, they'd come back, he'd assured her many times.

"The servants of nature themselves," Not-Shane responded. Bonnie looked up in shock.

"You want me to kill witches?" she whispered. He nodded like she'd asked if he had milk in his refrigerator. "I can't!" she insisted. "One of me against twelve witches? I'll never be able to do it, even if I could get so many of them into one place! I don't even know that many other witches, Shane—Silas—whoever you are."

"I'll take care of getting them here," he assured her. "And as for power," he added, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small white object, gently curved, with a lethal point at the end, "you have nothing to worry about." Bonnie reached out a hand to take the object, but jumped back with a gasp as the overwhelming dark aura it held flowed into her.

"Whose is that?" she demanded when she had her breath back. She didn't bother asking what it was. Only a vampire fang that had killed a staggering number of people could give off an energy like that. Not-Shane smiled.

"It belonged to Klaus," he replied, wrapping the tooth in a handkerchief and handing it to her. "But it's yours now." Bonnie took the little roll of cloth, holding it in her fingertips, afraid to tap into the dark power again without a damn good reason. She made eye-contact with Not-Shane.

"When am I doing this?" she asked flatly.

"Tomorrow night," he answered.


	12. Had to be Done

Caroline couldn't even begin to express how glad she was when Stefan texted her that Elena and Damon had gone on a road trip to The Big Apple for an indefinite length of time. It was the tiniest, most insignificant piece of good news after a night spent bawling her eyes out while the shower ran next to her, providing at least the illusion of privacy. She'd considered going home, but then she'd have to leave the room, and she wasn't sure if _he_ 'd try to confront her again. Even if he didn't, she wasn't up to walking all the way home, and she knew her mom would be asleep—having consumed several glasses of wine after the Elena House Party Incident—so she couldn't call for a ride.

She wasn't sure if she'd slept at all that night, although she had turned off the water and gotten into bed around four, and lay there until seven, at which point she'd texted Stefan, in an attempt to start a conversation. Once she heard that her least favorite Salvatore and sociopathic best friend were out of state, she knew that the first thing she wanted to do was visit Stefan, who had a real gift for making her feel better in rough situations. He'd been amenable to that; he was thinking of going after Bonnie and talking some sense into her, and figured that she'd be more likely to listen to Caroline than to him.

When she turned up at the Salvatore house, she'd been startled to find red cups, pong balls and various other party paraphernalia scattered across every available surface. Stefan looked sheepish—housekeeping wasn't really his thing. Luckily for him, one of Caroline's human coping mechanisms was stress-cleaning, and she sent him off to get her a coffee and some breakfast pastries while she made a dent in the crazy mess.

People had managed to litter in the strangest places, she noticed with something between irritation and awe. She found stuff tossed in the fireplace, in the fancy liquor cabinet, and even perched on top of the ceiling fan. She got on her knees to check beneath the couch—after removing several bits of trash and one skanky pair of ripped underwear from among the cushions—and as she swept empty cups out into the open, a tiny glass tube rolled out with them. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand, wondering just what kinds of drugs people had been using, but the label was one from Mystic Falls General Hospital. It took her a second to place the chemical formula, but the moment she realized what it was, she remembered how a tranquilizer syringe could've gotten there in the first place. Meredith had stashed several of them in each of Alaric's hangouts when he'd been descending into craziness. One must've fallen and gotten kicked under the sofa. It was strange to think that that had only been a few months ago. She got up and stuck the little tube in her purse, figuring she'd give it back to Meredith later; she didn't want to dispose of the thing incorrectly, since it was medicine.

Of course, she was still horribly upset about, well, everything. But feeling proactive helped a lot, and also, some time during the night, she'd transitioned from sad to angry—angry at Klaus, for trying to compel her, angry at Tyler, for using her and trying to kill her, angry at Elena, for trying to hurt her mom, angry at Damon, for convincing Elena to flip her switch in the first place. Sorrow was a cold feeling, but anger was a hot feeling, and she found that she liked it much better. She could operate while angry. She could even act normal while angry. She picked up a half-full cup of beer, looked at it, shrugged, and downed it in one gulp before tossing the cup in the trash can. There was another one next to it, and she picked it up.

"You know," Klaus's voice said coolly from the doorway, "if you are determined to get drunk, then I might perhaps recommend something a little more sanitary." Caroline glanced sidelong at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, looking every inch the confident bad-boy hybrid. Her anger at him flared again, heating her to the tips of her fingers, and she threw back the beer defiantly before flinging the cup to join its fellows in the bin.

"Well, you sure showed me," Klaus muttered sarcastically.

"Stefan and I are going looking for Bonnie," Caroline snapped, setting down the trash can and planting her fists on her hips. The range of movement hurt her right hand, but she wasn't about to look weak right now. She didn't want his sympathy. Not today, at least. "I'm coming with because Bonnie likes me. Bonnie _doesn't_ like _you_. So what are you doing here?" If her hand could scream, it would have been screaming. She gave up and folded her arms, trying for the same air of irritable bravado.

"Well, Stefan mentioned to me that Bonnie's still spending a lot of time with Shane," Klaus explained, entering the room fully and sitting down on the now-clean couch.

"So?" Caroline demanded.

"I killed Shane on the island," Klaus finished simply. Caroline frowned, and then her eyes widened.

"Then… who has Bonnie been with this entire time?" she asked apprehensively. Klaus nodded.

"Precisely," he responded.

"Yeah," Stefan tossed in, entering the room and hearing the end of the conversation. "I figured if we were going to run into a two-thousand-year-old immortal, an Original Hybrid who can't die might come in handy." He handed Caroline her coffee and a brown paper bag that smelled deliciously of asiago cheese.

"Great," Caroline huffed, and then sat down and took a long drink of her double-shot macchiato. "So, any idea of how we find them? Bonnie's gone radio silent, and when I find-my-lost-iPhone'd her phone, I got the coordinates of her house, where she certainly isn't now."

"The night we got back," Stefan elaborated, sitting down as well, "she said that Silas needed to complete three massacres to do the spell to break down the Other Side and bring all the dead supernaturals back to life. He's completed two, so now we just have to figure out where and when he'll be conducting the third one."

"Two?" Caroline checked in confusion, mouth full of asiago pretzel. She raised an eyebrow.

"The fire at the Young Farm," Stefan listed, "and whatever the hell happened at his house." He nodded towards Klaus.

"Some idiot vampires broke in a while back," Klaus said with a shrug. "I killed them, only to learn later that Shane had convinced them to do so in order to manipulate me into committing his second massacre. To be fair, Elena took care of a few herself."

"When did this happen?" Caroline asked in shock, mostly at the "Elena helped" part.

"A few weeks ago," he responded. "You were still… out of it." There was a moment of silence where the tension between them dropped at the memory of her close brush with death. Then Stefan spoke again, breaking the spell.

"I think we should start with Shane's office," he suggested. "The guy had to have info about this kind of thing, considering how deeply involved he was with it."

"Sounds like a plan," Klaus said, standing up and offering Caroline a hand out of habit. She glared at it, standing up on her own. Stefan glanced between the two of them.

"It is going to be a problem, you two working together?" he asked, not knowing, of course, about what had happened the previous night.

"Not at all," Caroline assured him icily, grabbing her purse and stalking out the door.

"Jury's still out, I'd say," Klaus qualified, following her out.

The hour-and-a-half drive to Whitmore—in Caroline's car, because fitting all three of them around all of the weapons and other junk that Stefan kept in the back of his little sports car would've been difficult—was tense, to say the least. Stefan had climbed in shotgun, and Klaus had taken the back seat, but Caroline almost wished they'd switch. Every time she looked in the rearview mirror, she met his eyes.

After several minutes of boring radio and changing lanes just because Caroline needed something to do, Stefan attempted to strike up a conversation with Klaus about cars. Did Klaus still have the Jag? What ever became of that fancy Ford Model-A convertible that he'd driven around Chicago in the twenties? To Caroline, the topic was about as interesting as watching nail polish dry, but at least Klaus was doing something besides catching her eye in the mirror. She subtly balanced the radio all the way to the front left speakers, and turned the volume up a notch. In this manner, they all got through the trip without anyone losing their temper.

Shane's office was locked, but when Stefan and Rebekah had come to steal the tombstone, he'd compelled one of the faculty to believe that he was an old friend and colleague of Shane's. The same woman was at her desk, and all Stefan had to do was knock and ask her to let him in, and she bounced right up, keys in hand, no further compulsion necessary. Caroline glanced around as they walked through the building. Bonnie was dead set on coming here after she graduated, and Elena was leaning pretty strongly towards the idea as well. Caroline had gotten several scholarship offers after her stellar performance on the ACT and SAT, but she did want to go to school with her friends…

Shane's office didn't look anything like Caroline would expect a college professor's office to look. It was full of various artifacts—hung on the walls, stacked and displayed on tables, in boxes on the floor. There were books too—a few of them looked like textbooks, with glossy covers and barcodes, but most were old, leather-bound tomes, and there were hundreds of them; shelves and shelves, and stacks all over the desk, with a sort of valley in between so that he could sit on one side and see whoever he was talking too on the other side.

"So, what are we looking for?" Caroline asked, picking up what she hoped was a _model_ of a human skull.

"Anything that might tell us about his plans to massacre twelve more people," Stefan responded unhelpfully, opening up the desk drawers and digging through the contents.

"Where, on his evil villain to-do list?" Caroline quipped, setting down the skull and picking up the heavy, ancient-smelling book next to it. "Brainwash Bennett Witch, perform three massacres, pick up dry-cleaning?" Stefan snorted.

"Actually, not to nit-pick," Klaus commented from the other side of the room, "but we evil villains usually use minions to pick up our dry-cleaning, that sort of thing." Caroline sighed grumpily, flipping through the book in her hands, mostly to have something to do with her eyes other than look at him.

"Why is he necessary again?" she grumbled to Stefan.

"Come on now, love," Klaus shot back smoothly, "Do lighten up. Stefan and I work well together—at least, we did in the twenties." Caroline glanced up at Stefan. She knew academically that they'd been murder buddies, but she was having a lot of trouble imagining it.

"Granted, my emotions were off at the time," Stefan added. Klaus said something back, but Caroline tuned him out—her eyes had caught a word on the page and sparked her interest. "Sacrifice." Her eyes roved over the page, internalizing the information inside of four seconds. As she finished reading the last bit, she turned to face the others, tuning back into the conversation so she could share her findings.

"Don't underestimate the allure of darkness, Stefan," Klaus was saying, and Caroline was seized with a desire to turn back around and pretend to read _Symbolic Figures in the Dark Arts_ a little more closely. "Even the purest hearts are drawn to it." He looked straight at her. She froze for a second.

"I found something," she announced, walking towards the desk so she could lay the book down flat, but if she'd hoped to act like she hadn't heard the last bit, she was much too late.

"Bonnie mentioned Expression Triangles, right?" she checked, pointing to the relevant paragraph. ' _Quit smirking, you smug sonofabitch_ ,' she thought heatedly as Klaus leaned over the desk with Stefan to look at the book. Caroline pointed to a large, intricate drawing of a triangle on the facing page. It was labeled with symbols, but someone had come along and written in translations. "Human," was one, and then on the second corner, the word "hybrids" had been crossed out and replaced with "vampires." Something clicked in Caroline's mind when she saw that, but she forgot immediately as she saw the third translation.

"Witches," Stefan said quietly. "They're going to kill twelve witches."

"Oh no," Caroline whispered, heart clenching at the thought of Bonnie being even peripherally involved in a mass slaughter of her own kind. Then she mentally shook herself. That wouldn't happen if they found her first, so now was the time to focus on the task at hand.

"I'm going to call Mr. Hopkins, in case he's heard from her," Stefan said, excusing himself.

"The book says that the triangle has to be equilateral," Caroline continued, leaning over and grabbing a folded map from one of Shane's piles of junk. She wasn't even surprised to see that it was a map of Mystic Falls. The guy had his resources.

"We have the fire at the Young Farm here," she listed, making a dot with a black marker. There was a pin hole in the paper already—surprise, surprise. "Then your house is here. So that puts the upcoming witch massacre… here," she finished, grabbing a ruler out of Shane's drawer and connecting the dots.

"Somebody's been skipping their geometry classes," Klaus observed, plucking the marker and ruler out of her hands. "There are actually two places the third massacre could be."

"Well you didn't let me finish," Caroline protested as the hybrid drew the other side of what was now a rhombus. She'd known that—she wasn't as blonde and empty-headed as people thought she was, and she was actually pretty skilled in the math-science department, but she'd taken great pains to hide her closet-intellect, for the sake of her reputation. So, she supposed she couldn't really blame him for buying what she sold. Although she wanted too. Allure of darkness… what kind of lame stereotypical crap was that? She wasn't drawn to his darkness! Not to _that_ , anyway…

"He hasn't heard from her all day," Stefan said without preamble as he reentered the room, breaking the awkward silence. "If we're going to stop this thing, we gotta go, now."

They piled back into Caroline's car, and she drove at speeds that would have turned her mother's hair gray if she'd witnessed it. But halfway home, they hit traffic, and even though Caroline weaved in and out of the other cars like a daredevil, it still took them an excruciatingly long time to get back. Both of the possible spots were in wooded areas—one was near the swimming hole on the edge of the Lockwood property, and the other was in the forest preserve half a mile away from the old witch house. They split up, Stefan headed to the swimming hole, and Caroline and Klaus heading to the witch house.

Klaus had his phone out to look at some all-terrain map he'd found online, but Caroline had lived in the area all her life, and was positive they were aiming too far south.

"Just let me see where we are," she grumbled, reaching for his phone, which he spitefully held out of reach, lengthening his stride so that she was behind him.

"You know," he reminded her icily, "when we split up, you did have the option of going with Stefan."

"And leave Bonnie's life in your hands?" she snapped back. "Fat chance. Do you even know how to read a map?"

"Yes," he retorted, "and do you know who taught me? My friend Magellan."

"Wow, you had a friend?" she said sarcastically. "Was he 'drawn to your darkness' too?" That phrase still bothered her; it had played on repeat in her head the whole way back to town. Klaus pocketed his phone and turned to face her.

"Actually, I was referring to Damon and Elena when I said that," he informed her in a cool voice, "but clearly it struck a chord with you."

Her range of responses to that varied from "bullshit" to "isn't that always how it is, with us?" but she settled on saying, "Because it's not true!" in a heated voice. There was more to it, of course. If she hadn't been so determined to be mad at him, then she might've elaborated, told him that it wasn't the darkness that she was drawn to; it was the rare gentleness and the paintings and the way he smiled, and, more than anything else, the way he would set aside his own wants and needs to look after her when she needed it most. She loved that he loved her—how terribly selfish was that?

But, she _was_ determined to be mad at him tonight.

"There is no allure to darkness," she finished, fighting to stay angry instead of bursting into tears. It surprised her how deeply uncomfortable it made her to be in a fight with him, when they'd gotten so close before.

"Really?" he demanded, taking a step closer and looking her right in the eye. "So you've never felt the attraction that comes when someone capable of doing terrible things, for some reason cares only about you?" She couldn't breathe for a moment. She hated the anger between them, but couldn't turn it off. Because he'd almost got it—he'd almost figured it out, and it sickened her that she couldn't just talk to him about this. Her heart throbbed once, then twice. Cares _only about you_ … She'd wanted those words for so long, but now that she'd heard them, she couldn't even be happy about it.

"We're here," he growled, apparently giving up on getting a response. Caroline tried to feel her face from the inside—what had he seen on it that made him stop pressing the subject? "But judging from the lack of witches, here is not the correct location."

That brought Caroline back to the present. Bonnie! Her eyes widened. Without a word, both vampires sped off in the opposite direction to find Stefan and, hopefully, Bonnie.

When they reached the clearing Stefan had been aiming for, they saw the vampire in question standing in a circle of torches—and chanting witches. Bonnie lay in the center, crying out in pain. Caroline rushed forward, but Klaus's hand on her arm stopped her. A second later, she saw why. Stefan was falling to his knees, his yells mingling with Bonnie's. Obviously, he'd tried reasoning with them, and by so doing made them aware of his presence. Stefan stumbled out of the circle, and the witches changed the cadence of their chanting. Bonnie screamed again.

"They're linked," Stefan gasped out as he made it to them and Klaus released Caroline's arm. "Bonnie's going to kill them."

"Not if the witches kill her first," Klaus observed darkly, eyes following the witch at the center of the circle, who was holding a large knife up. Caroline's knees went weak. Bonnie was still on the ground, struggling against the magic. She'd pulled something out of her pocket, and a wrapping—a bit of white cloth or something—had fallen to the ground beside her. The witches all gasped as Bonnie began a chant of her own, and the witch with the knife had to pause in her murderous efforts and aid her coven.

Stefan stepped forward again, but Klaus slammed him against a nearby tree.

"We cannot intervene," he insisted as the witch in the middle of the circle wrested something out of Bonnie's hand and threw it aside. She raised the knife again. "To stop them, we'd have to kill them, and then Silas gets what he wants." Caroline clenched her fists painfully for the second time that day—and remembered the first time she'd done it—and remembered what she'd stowed in her purse…

Weak and slow for a vampire was still unbelievably fast, for a human. Caroline had the tranquilizer needle jammed into the knife-wielding witch's neck, and was pushing down the plunger before the sound and rush of air from her movement had died down. As she'd hoped, one by one, the other members of the coven fell silent and dropped unconscious to the ground.

"Bonnie?" she asked worriedly, kneeling by her friend. The younger witch was in the fetal position, tears streaming down her face. She looked up at Caroline, eyes eerily white, and then passed out as well, clearly overwhelmed.

"Where did you get that?" Stefan asked quietly as Klaus released him and the two men entered the now dark circle.

"I come prepared," Caroline responded flippantly. There was no way she was going to admit that it was just dumb luck in Klaus's hearing. Klaus crouched down, and picked something up, turning it over in his hands. It must've been whatever Bonnie had been trying to channel. He pocketed it, and Caroline couldn't bring herself to care what it might be, at this point.

Stefan lifted Bonnie gently and carried her back out of the woods. Klaus and Caroline followed, not speaking, each a little staggered by how badly that could've gone if everything hadn't worked out just right. When they got back to streets and buildings and other trappings of civilization, Stefan turned towards Bonnie's house, and Caroline made to follow him, but something made her look back at Klaus.

She wanted to be mad at him. But she really didn't want to be mad at him.

"It's easier," she said softly, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"What is?" he asked as he turned back towards his own house.

"It's easier," she explained, "to be angry than to be sad. Or hurt."

They made eye-contact for a moment. She could see in his face that he wasn't happy about the way things were going either, but he of all people knew about using anger to soothe pain.

"Good night," he finally said, before turning and vanishing down the street.

"Good night," she murmured back, a moment too late. Then she hitched her purse a little higher on her shoulder, and followed Stefan to Bonnie's.

-0-

Deep in the forest, a man stood, thumbs in his pockets, surveying the unconscious bodies of twelve witches. He sighed. After thousands of years trapped in a cavern, mind controlling everyone who came within range, it felt deeply unnatural to do his own dirty work. Apparently, staying clear of the possible Expression fallout had been a poor decision on his part.

He reached down and picked up a fist-sized rock, tossing it up and down a few times to get a feel for the weight and hardness of it. Then he bashed it down on the head of the witch closest to him. It took very little effort to kill them—less than the minor effort he expended using his powers to keep them unconscious. He moved on to the next one, thinking about Bonnie Bennett. The power feedback had probably lifted his control, temporarily. It would take some time to regain it, but he did need an Expressionist to complete the spell for him. He smashed in the head of the seventh witch.

He was so close. After so many centuries, starving, pining and plotting, he could nearly taste his victory. Of course, he reasoned as he killed the ninth one, the setbacks he kept encountering would need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

He killed the eleventh witch, and moved to stand over the twelfth.

Something would have to be done about Caroline Forbes.

His hand raised and fell twice.

But first, now that the triangle was complete, it was time to find and retrieve his cure.


	13. Clarity

Klaus sat in his study, rolling his lost and recovered fang between his fingertips. He'd hardly expected to find it in the middle of a mildly disturbing human sacrifice ritual, being used to channel murderous intent by a child witch who had probably never killed anybody in her life. It didn't add up; where had she gotten it? Tyler and his witch had driven out of town with it like a bat out of hell, and magic had covered their tracks. Granted, Bonnie was a witch, and she did have Silas helping her out. That might've rather tipped the scales in her favor. Had they tracked the young hybrid, then? Still, it had happened so quickly; it should have taken them days to outmaneuver Tyler and such a powerful witch.

Unless… Caroline had said that Tyler had "found a witch" who claimed to know a spell that would bond his sire line to an object.

If he recalled correctly, the other hybrids had been told by Hayley that she had a witch who knew how to do the rare, complex body-jump spell. This had, of course, turned out to be a lie. Hayley had been working with Shane to commit massacres. What if what Tyler had been told was also a lie—practically the same lie? If his witch was actually working for Silas, that would explain a great deal. Silas could've then killed the boy, taken the fang and given it to Bonnie to channel, so she could successfully complete the otherwise impossible witch massacre.

Of course, that would mean that Silas had Tyler, which in turn meant the latter was most likely dead, assuming he was no longer making himself useful. So then, Silas had not only robbed him of the right to kill Tyler himself, he was also behind the attack on Caroline. Klaus got up and stowed the fang away in a corner of his safe until he could have Terry destroy it. If he hadn't already intended to slaughter Silas over the Mikael incident, he certainly would have now. Granted, the fellow had astounding mental powers, but in Klaus's defense, he'd been weak, half-conscious and strung out on that islander witch's magic. Now, he was in top form and itching to kill something after all of the Caroline drama yesterday.

"Klaus," a familiar voice greeted him, and he turned to see Caroline entering his study. That thing about speaking of the devil was only supposed to work if you said the name out loud, right? He hadn't expected her to return so soon—she'd gone over to Bonnie's and apparently stayed the night. He'd assumed she was avoiding him, and was pleasantly surprised to find a nervous but friendly expression on her face.

"We need to talk," she said with a sigh. Were they making up already? That was easy, he thought.

"It's about the cure," she added, and a thousand years of learning to be stoic kept Klaus's face from visibly falling. No, of course not. She was here because she needed something, as usual.

"What about it?" he asked, a little roughly.

"What are we doing about getting it back?" she pressed. "Stefan ran off after Damon and Elena, and Bonnie doesn't remember anything—no one can tell me what's going on."

So, he was also her last choice of informational sources. This just got better and better, didn't it?

"Katherine has it, Elena and Rebekah are chasing her, Damon and Stefan are chasing them," Klaus listed, keeping his voice to a bored drawl. "That's as much as anybody knows, love."

"I know, I just thought that, y'know, maybe you had some idea of where Katherine would go with it," she explained, twisting at the hem of her shirt. "I mean, you _did_ chase her to the ends of the earth for centuries."

"Well," he admitted grudgingly, "since she's still alive, what does that tell you about whether or not I know where she is?" That was another person high up on his kill list. Katherine was going to pay dearly for her role in this.

-0-

Bonnie awoke feeling stiff, sore, and confused. Stefan had told her about Jeremy and Silas and everything that had happened since they left the island, and then she'd been quite overwhelmed and passed out again. Try as she might, she couldn't remember any of it.

She just couldn't believe that Jeremy was dead. Every time she thought of it, pain ripped through her and she couldn't breathe. They'd only just made up after their last fight, too…

She rolled over, careful not to jostle Caroline. Her friend had stayed the night to give her some moral support, and was still asleep. Well, at least that was one enormous piece of good news to temper the bad—Caroline had survived her use of the dagger.

-0-

"We need to find that cure, Klaus," Caroline insisted, stepping closer to him and looking him right in the eyes. Klaus frowned. It was unlike her to be so insistent about something like this—perhaps she didn't think Damon was up to the task of making sure Elena got the thing, but didn't she trust Stefan?

"I'm worried," she sighed, almost as if she knew what direction his thoughts had taken. "Stefan said Rebekah was with Elena; what if she gets there first?" That was a thought, honestly. If his idiot little sister got her hands on the cure, she'd polish it off in one gulp and condemn herself to another half century of bleak mortality before her eventual death.

"Maybe you should go after them," she suggested. "If anyone's good at keeping Rebekah safe from herself, it's you." She was looking up at him hopefully, and she did have a point. But honestly, of the four who had gone after Katerina, the only one with a prayer of finding her was Stefan, who would, upon regaining the cure, shove it down Elena's throat in the same instant. Rebekah was strong and clever, but Stefan was her weakness.

"Elena will get her damn cure," he assured her. "The Salvatores will see to it." Caroline's hopeful expression fell, and then she was glaring balefully up at him. She took a step back.

"Well," she mused coldly, "I did try to do this the easy way." A tiny jolt of surprise fired through Klaus's brain, and something else—some sense of apprehension born from his werewolf side—made him take a subtle step back, on the pretense of adjusting his posture.

"You need to find and bring me my cure," Caroline said in a low, threatening tone. _My_ cure? His instincts had a split-second discussion with his conscious brain.

"Silas, I presume," he said with equal menace.

"That's right," Not-Caroline agreed, a hint of pride in her otherwise dull, cold voice. "Yesterday I looked like Shane, today I look like Caroline, and tomorrow, who knows?"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, mate," Klaus shot back, making a show of patting down his pockets, "but I don't seem to have the thing."

"But you can get it," Not-Caroline responded immediately.

"See, here's the thing," Klaus said, leaning against his desk casually and folding his hands. "I have absolutely no incentive whatsoever to want to help you. You don't scare me, Silas."

"No," Not-Caroline agreed, "But I know what does." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the white oak stake.

"Now where did you get that?" Klaus murmured. Not-Caroline smiled.

"I'm a two-thousand year old immortal witch with mental powers the likes of which the world has never before seen," she reminded him. "I can figure out how to crack a safe."

Then suddenly, at a speed so fast that even a vampire's eyes couldn't catch it, she was behind him, ramming the stake into his back. Klaus roared in pain, falling to his knees.

"Find me my cure, Klaus," Not-Caroline's voice hissed in his ear. "But in the meantime, here's a little something to remember me by." Then she twisted the stake upwards—eliciting another scream from the original—and yanked it out at an odd angle. A shattering 'crack' reverberated through the room, and then Klaus was alone, gasping on the floor, with little, needle-like pains still stabbing through his back.

Silas had broken off the stake's tip and left it inside of him, inches from his heart.

-0-

With all of the inhabitants of the Salvatore house out of town and the door left unlocked as usual, Caroline felt perfectly justified in letting herself in and borrowing Stefan's shower. She stood underneath the hot, wonderfully vervain-free water, massaging Stefan's admittedly kind of weird-smelling shampoo through her hair. She'd thought it would be nice, to be alone with her thoughts—have some vampire-free morning to consider prom plans, since Rebekah had gone cure hunting and abandoned her assumed responsibilities—but all her brain would do now that it had the time was think about Klaus. Joy.

With the rising sun, the anger she'd worked so hard to hold onto had almost completely evaporated, like the lifting of a fog. Some irritation was still there, along with stress about Elena and sadness and the pain of betrayal over Tyler, but all of it was more manageable now. She needed to move on. She needed to let go of Tyler, she needed to trust Stefan and Damon to take care of Elena, and, she finished a little grudgingly, she needed to make up with Klaus. He'd done something incredibly stupid, and hurt her, yes. But, he had had the best of intentions. That didn't make what he'd done about it right, by any stretch of the imagination, but, ultimately, no harm was done. She'd just keep drinking vervain—which she would've done anyway, to build immunity—and honestly, she didn't think he was dumb enough to try it again.

She got out of the shower, dried off, and borrowed Elena's straightener for her hair. Well, she thought with a little sigh, there was no time like the present.

-0-

Klaus had always sort of scoffed at the human irritation of "that one spot on your back that you just can't reach." It was such a silly thing, yet so many people got upset about it. But now, twisting his neck to see his back in the mantle mirror and forcing his left arm down over his right shoulder, centimeter by centimeter, ignoring the burning ache that the stretch caused him, he understood the issue.

His fingers raked the skin mercilessly, ripping it aside and digging into the flesh beneath, but he couldn't get enough leverage to reach in further—his shoulder was too high for him to get over. Retracting his hand, he grabbed his right wrist and yanked harshly downward, badly dislocating the joint and causing himself to roar in pain. Then he lifted up his arm again to reach back to the already healing skin. His whole body was covered in sweat, and blood trails from his attempts had stained the back of his jeans and spattered across the hardwood floor.

He got deeper this time, sliding his fingers across his scapula until he found his ribs, and then cracking one of them and pushing it agonizingly aside so that he had room to maneuver. His fingers dug around, and he gasped and growled in pain, but it was useless—that damn shoulder was still too high up, and the shards were deeper than he could reach.

Taking a few steps forward, he braced his feet and smashed his shoulder against the brick wall, screaming again, and stumbling on his way back to the mirror. The wounds were starting to heal—he had to open them up again. That was when the front door opened, and a single set of footsteps approached. He looked up, breathless, not wanting anyone to see him like this, but not trusting that the use of vamp speed or anything else strenuous wouldn't cause the splinters to move closer to his heart.

"Klaus?" Bonnie's voice called. That was unexpected. She came around the corner and into view. "Something happened with… Silas…" she trailed off in confusion as she got a good look at him. "What—?" was all she could get out.

"Silas was here, too" he growled. Bonnie Bennett was hardly a person he'd want knowing how vulnerable he was. She might've been friends with Elena and Caroline, but deep down she was still a witch, and had tried to kill him before. He chose not to elaborate on the problem, subtly turning so that his bleeding back wasn't reflecting to her in the mirror. "What else has he done?"

Bonnie approached him cautiously, eyes roving over him, clearly not understanding what she saw.

"You look terrible," she finally commented. He glared daggers at her. Silas couldn't bloody do anything if his witch lost her head right her in the living room.

Of course, then he, as an immortal being, could torment him for the rest of eternity.

"Exactly," Bonnie agreed with a smirk. Klaus stiffened.

"Silas!" he roared in horror, stumbling back and falling to his knees.

"The one and only," Not-Bonnie said silkily. She turned on her heel, brown curls bouncing, but when she faced him again, the curls were pale gold and her skin was alabaster white. "And I'm glad you're starting to understand how this is going to work, Klaus," Not-Caroline finished, still smiling eerily.

"Show me your real face, coward!" Klaus demanded.

"Now why would I do that when I can look like whomever I want you to see?" Not-Caroline asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

-0-

When Caroline reached Klaus's house, she didn't bother knocking. She sort of lived there, really, and since his name wasn't "Damon Salvatore," he probably wasn't lounging around naked in the living room.

She walked down the short hallway, hearing voices from the lounge, and entered to a very strange sight.

Klaus was on his hands and knees by the fireplace, back covered in blood, face covered in sweat and contorted with rage and pain, glaring up at Stefan, who had his head cocked a little to one side and his hands gesturing slightly outwards, like he was explaining something fairly simple.

"Stefan?" she asked in confusion. His head whipped around to look at her, and he frowned, like she'd done something unexpected. "I didn't know you were back in town," she continued, running her mouth to hide how deeply unsettled she was by this twisted tableau.

-0-

Klaus's eyes flickered back and forth between Caroline and Not-Caroline. How could any of this be possible? And why had she called her double by Stefan's name?

"Odd," Not-Caroline murmured, giving Caroline a look that Klaus did not at all like. "Remember what I said," she told him coldly before turning on her heel and stalking back out the way she came, leaving Klaus alone with the real Caroline.

"What is going on?" she demanded, whirling on him in shock.

"Silas," he rasped. If he never had to say the name again, he'd be a happy man, he thought. "He stabbed me... with the White Oak Stake." If there was anyone he _could_ safely tell, it was her. Even if she'd wanted to betray him, her sire-line ensured that she couldn't kill him. "A piece of it is still inside of me," he finished, watching her eyes widen in comprehension.

"That could kill you," she breathed. He levered himself upright on the piano bench.

"I've been trying to cut it out all morning," he admitted, voice still terribly rough. "But I can't reach it.

I need your help." Admitting to it was incredibly difficult, even in such a desperate situation.

"What do you want me to do?" Caroline asked quietly, clearly still processing everything. Klaus gestured towards a pair of bloody pliers he'd used earlier to try and extend his reach, only to discover that the angle was impossible with something that long that didn't bend.

"Well it's quite simple, really," he explained. "I need you to cut the stake out of me." Caroline's eyes followed his arm, and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. Then she nodded. Klaus stood up and braced himself against the piano—supporting himself mostly with his left arm, since his right shoulder was still healing from the day's abuse. He heard rather than saw Caroline pick up the pliers, and then she was standing behind him, hesitating.

She rested a hand gently against the uninjured part of his back. Then she started digging the pliers into his flesh. He set his jaw, determined not to scream, but the feeling of the metal blades twisting around inside of him, combined with the splinters embedded deep inside of him, was truly agonizing. His breathing was labored, and he clenched his fists. An errant movement of Caroline's hand sent another stab of pain through him, and he made the mistake of putting weight on his right arm, fracturing the half-mended bones and causing him to cry out.

"Oh my god," Caroline gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" her hands were shaking now, adding to his pain.

"What are you trying to do?" he demanded. "Push it in deeper?"

"Hey," she shot back, "if you want someone with surgical training, call Meredith! I don't know what I'm doing."

"NO!" he snapped loudly, twisting his neck to glare into her eyes. "No one must know about this— _no one_!"

"Okay," Caroline sighed, "then quit complaining. I'm doing the best I can here."

She carried on in silence for several more minutes, until finally she muttered, "I swear, there's nothing in here."

"I assure you," he said witheringly, "there is."

"Well, I don't see it," she responded. "I see your ribs, your blood, and I'm pretty sure—oh!" she exclaimed, and hope surged through the exhausted hybrid that she'd found the miserable thing. "Well would you look at that?" she finished. "You _do_ have a heart."

"Need I remind you that I am the progenitor of your sire line," he growled as disappointment burned through him, "and if I die, so do you and practically everyone you know?"

"Oh," she hissed, "Thanks! Like I needed _another_ upsetting fact to distract me right now! That's _really_ gonna make me focus. _Thanks_!" Klaus had to admit—grudgingly—that she had a point. He closed his mouth, clenching his jaw to keep from making any more undignified sounds.

"I can't see _anything_ ," Caroline grumbled, and another jab of the pliers ripped another scream from Klaus's throat. He didn't let it escape his mouth though, and wound up making a strangled cry behind his teeth. Mercifully, the metal points vanished—she'd removed the pliers. But that wasn't going to get the damn stake out. He was about to demand that she continue, but she spoke before he could.

"Show me," she demanded.

"What?" he asked, frowning and turning his head to look at her.

"You can't reach it, and I can't find it," she said with an air of finality. "The only way that thing's coming out is if you let me inside your mind and show me where it is."

"No," he answered automatically, but she pressed the issue immediately, without waiting for him to say anything else.

"Klaus," she snapped, "I get that you're a thousand years' worth of paranoid, but if I can't find the stake, _you are going to die._ Do you understand that?"

Her eyes bore into his. She wasn't backing down. And there weren't really any other options. He didn't like exposing himself like that, but he was already in the most helpless state he could imagine, and she was helping him with that. He turned back around, and felt her fingertips graze gently along his temple and cheek.

It was right about then that he put two and two together, and realized that if she entered his thoughts, she'd feel all of his pain. His shoulder, shattered and dislocated, the bones growing back together as splinters pointing every which way. His ribs, cracked and re-growing. His skin, ripped and stretched to pieces. His insides, torn apart dozens of times over in the course of that one nightmarish morning. The lethal shards of wood, stabbing through his body.

Everything in him, every cell in his body, every synapse in his brain, rebelled wholeheartedly and single-mindedly against the idea of causing her pain. This was _Caroline_. If he'd had his way, she'd never suffer again in her life, and certainly not the way he was suffering now.

A jolt ran through him like a static shock, and Caroline jumped back, exclaiming, "Klaus!" in an irritated tone, assuming he'd blocked her out. He whirled to face her.

Something had happened. Something was different. It took him a moment to place it.

"It's gone," he whispered in disbelief.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"The—the pain," he stammered, shock and relief and fear and tension clouding his mind. "The pain is gone. It was…" he realized with horror, "it was never there."

Caroline was frowning, eyes searching his face, still not catching on.

"Silas," he growled. He was nearly crying, out of some perverse combination of relief and anger and humiliation. "He got inside my head." Caroline's eyes widened. She got it. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "You got my mind off it," he continued, clasping her hand between both of his. "You brought me back, Caroline." She slipped her hand out of his, moving mechanically to fall onto the piano bench. It seemed that her legs simply weren't going to hold her any more.

"If Silas can make you, of all people, think that you're dying," she said in a very small voice, looking up at him, face shockingly white. "What can he do to the rest of us?"

-0-

The little shops in downtown Mystic Falls were as busy as usual for late morning on a Sunday, and people meandered up and down the sidewalk, generally minding their own business, and glancing in the windows of the buildings they passed. Among them, a man in his mid-forties walked a little more slowly, his expression contemplative.

No one else had greeted him by Stefan's name, although he could tell from his probing of their minds that many of the people passing by knew him. His abilities were working as normal. So then, how had she seen what she did? She was just an ordinary vampire; he'd seen that in the minds of her friends that he'd encountered. He couldn't explain it. The minds of every living and undead creature in this puny little town were completely open to him, but hers was garbled, distorted, like she was thinking in five different languages at once, except that Silas's mental abilities allowed him to have perfect mastery of every spoken language on the globe, so even if she was literally doing that, he'd still understand it. Her mind "spoke" completely differently than that of anyone he'd ever met.

He toyed with the idea of killing her—that talent, whatever it was, would jeopardize his plan. However, he decided against it. A better idea would be to find out what she was doing and how she was doing it—that way, he could prevent others from doing the same, and perhaps gain a new skill himself. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get the cure from the bumbling wretches who'd made off with it, after all. She'd stopped three massacres, and had Klaus Mikaelson wrapped around her pinky—clearly the girl knew how to get things done.

But, since he couldn't influence her directly, he'd need some leverage; some way to get her to want the same thing he did. That was something to mull over.

-0-

Klaus stood in his gallery, leaning against the open door of his safe and staring at the White Oak Stake, assuring himself that is was still securely inside. Under any other circumstances, he would never have let anyone force his hand—particularly someone against whom he had such a substantial grudge—but he had to admit, the only way he was going to get Silas to stop hounding him was to give the bastard what he wanted and let him die and rest in peace.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Rebekah.

"What do you want, Nik?" she answered.

"An update on our search for the elusive cure," he responded. Hopefully, neither of the girls had quaffed it yet.

"Let's just say that things have gotten complicated," Rebekah sighed. Klaus's stomach twisted. "In fact, why don't you speak to one of those complications?" she offered. "Here." He heard road noise and wind as she held the phone out to someone else.

"Complication speaking," Elijah's voice greeted him. Klaus almost laughed in relief. A complication for Rebekah's impulsiveness, maybe.

"Big brother," he said smoothly. "At last you join the fray."

"Somebody had to take charge," Elijah commented, and Klaus's jaw tightened for a moment. "And now that I have," Elijah announced, "I've got the cure and I'm bringing it back to Mystic Falls."

"With a long list of demands, I assume," Klaus responded, irritation gone, replaced by his earlier relief. This thing could feasibly be over by this time tomorrow, if everything went well.

"Not that long," Elijah responded, and Klaus heard a car door open and close. The road noise muted.

"Come home, brother," Klaus said, still smiling. "We'll settle this like family." Then he disconnected, closed his safe, and headed back into the living room.

"I used up all your bleach," Caroline announced, rubbing her hands together. He smelled the faint odors of bleach, soap, and the sanitizer she was currently using on herself. It amused him that she was bothering, considering she was a vampire and obviously couldn't get diseases from handling people's blood, but perhaps it was cathartic. Or she was offended by the smell of bleach. Either way.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to gently grab her arm as she made to walk past him. "Thank you, for helping me."

"Yeah," she responded with a nod, and then a little shrug. "I mean, ultimately I didn't really do anything. What made you realize it was all in your head?"

"I told you," Klaus replied immediately. "You did." Caroline was silent for a moment, not getting it. "When I stopped thinking about myself," he elaborated, "and thought about you instead, I wasn't focused on it, and the illusion lost its hold on me."

He heard her heart falter, and then start to race. Her eyes quickly left his, and focused on the fireplace—in which she'd started a fire to try and diffuse the bleach smell. In the soft lighting, it took him a moment to realize that she'd gone quite red. That was a rather strange reaction, he thought. What had he said that affected her so?

She looked on the verge of saying something when her phone started buzzing to alert her to an incoming call. She took a few steps back to take it, and Klaus walked over to his alcohol cabinet and pulled out his favorite scotch and a pair of glasses.

"Wait, what?" He heard Caroline exclaim in horror, and whirled around, focusing his vampire hearing on her caller's voice. Bloody hell, what was wrong now?

"I'm sorry!" and unfamiliar voice wailed, "I tried to talk them out of it, but they're installing them now—I don't know what to do!"

"Tell them I'll be there in five minutes," Caroline returned angrily, "and that if I find even a _single_ decoration that I did not personally authorize, they will be assuming the cost of every piece, and it will all go in the dumpster." Then she ended the call and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

"Prom stuff," she said over her shoulder by way of explanation. "I gotta go."

"Friends, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, wanting to know where they stood—and with any luck, what she'd been thinking of saying a moment ago—before she got distracted by human drama.

She looked back at him, and seemed to consider for a few seconds. Then a little warm smile spread across her lips, and her eyes twinkled. Klaus found his lips smiling in response as she turned and headed out the door.


	14. Busy, Busy, Busy, Busy, Busy

"We will discuss it later. In the meantime, perhaps you could get me up to speed on the situation with Silas."

That was what Elijah had said when Klaus had welcomed him and Rebekah back to Mystic Falls and then asked where the cure was. The brothers had had a momentary contest of wills, and then Rebekah was treated to the incredibly rare sight of Klaus backing down. His older brother did have a right to know where things stood with Silas, the hybrid reasoned. After all, the immortal could easily be a danger to all of them. Besides, if Elijah had the cure, it wasn't going anywhere.

That was nine days ago. Nine days in which Rebekah had wound up talking to Caroline, and between the two of them they realized that they had a little over a week left to plan and execute the all-important prom. Nine days in which Elijah refused to even discuss the cure unless Rebekah was in the room. Nine days in which—according to Caroline and the Salvatores—it was apparently a _great big deal_ that Elena Gilbert hadn't murdered anybody. What none of them seemed to understand was that the person most likely to murder _everybody_ was Klaus, if they didn't all get their priorities straight.

The worst part of it was, technically, the stall was almost entirely Caroline's fault. If she hadn't bloody reminded Rebekah about the stupid dance she was supposed to be helping with, then all of this could've been solved last week, Silas could go die in a gutter somewhere, and then the girls could have their silly party without the weight of supernatural doom and the possible addition of Klaus's wrath hanging over their heads.

And of course, now that he and Caroline had made up, she seemed completely unaffected by his ever-growing aura of menace.

"Senior Prom is kind of the last hurrah of high school," she told him as she made endless lists on her computer—of what he didn't dare ask. "It's about looking back at who we've been and what we've done and how we've changed over the last four years, and then turning over the page as we get ready for the next stage in our lives—college, marriage, kids, that kind of thing. With everything that's going on, it's more important now than ever to take a beat and focus on normal stuff."

For someone who had actually been there and seen him at death's door over this, she was acting surprisingly calm about the whole thing, he thought in rising irritation as he drove out of town to his favorite vervain-free dive bar to blow off a little steam.

Finally, finally, the morning of the stupid, ridiculous dance—which Klaus had half a mind to ruin or have canceled—Elijah got Rebekah to take a break from all of her committee stuff, and all three originals sat down at Klaus's dining room table to, finally, talk about the cure.

"Elijah, being a human means a fresh start," Rebekah jumped in quickly, with an air of delivering the conclusion of a speech she'd already given her older brother. "I can grow old and have a family and fill my days with meaning, knowing that each one matters." Klaus laughed

"Well, that was poetic," he commented with bland sarcasm.

"Well, Niklaus," Elijah responded levelly, "if you can provide us with a more compelling reason for wanting the cure, then, please." He made a small gesture towards his younger brother, giving him the floor.

"Silas can appear as anyone," Klaus said immediately. He too was merely reminding Elijah of what he'd already detailed out before. "He got inside my thoughts, convinced me I was dying. He will torment me until I give him the cure."

"And in doing so," Rebekah reminded them, "he will break down the wall to the Other Side—he will open the floodgates for every supernatural being that has ever died."

"Including our brother, Finn," Klaus shot back. "We'll have our family together again. What about our dear Marcellus, or your particular friend, Mary," he added, addressing the last to Rebekah. He'd turned Mary Porter as a Christmas present for her in the fourteenth Century, and the two had been fast friends—on and off, depending on whether Rebekah was daggered at the time—for the better part of seven-hundred years. Until Kol killed her, of course.

"And what about Tatia, brother?" he continued, looking at Elijah. "She was a doppelganger—they're supernatural beings as well; she may well be over there. And our eldest sister, Freya. She was a witch, despite her young age, was she not? We've never gotten the chance to meet her either, since she died before any of us but Finn were born."

-0-

_Unseen by any of the three vampires, two girls lounged on the couch in the living room. One was in her late teens or early twenties, with long straight blonde hair and round cheeks made for smiling. She wore a little black party dress so recent that it was likely still available on the clearance rack at whatever store she'd originally purchased it from new. The other was much younger, with flax-brown curls and thoughtful hazel eyes. Her garments were woodsy colors, and from many centuries ago, although they hardly got any wear and tear on the Other Side._

" _You can interact with the physical realm if you channel enough power, right?" the older one checked, looking at her little friend._

" _Yeah," the little girl sighed. "Why?"_

" _I was just thinking," the blonde explained, "I'm a vampire; if you wanted to channel me so you could whack him upside the head, I'd let you." The little girl snorted with laughter, and flashed a dimply, toothy smile at the vampire._

" _I'll keep it in mind," she laughed. "Don't worry, though," she added, a little more seriously. "If nothing else, Elijah's usually pretty on-top of this stuff."_

" _Well," the older one shrugged, "My offer still stands."_

" _Thanks, Lexi," the little witch said, turning her attention back to the three living people still discussing the fate of the world._

-0-

"Indeed," Elijah nodded sagely as Klaus finished speaking. "Everyone we've known and lost would return to us. That includes a lovely group of men called The Five, a large pack of werewolves you failed to turn into hybrids last summer, and let's not forget the Dalmira witches I killed off a few decades ago before they had the chance to regrow the White Oak tree. And lest we forget, with this charming discussion of family, a sweet couple we once knew named Mikael and Esther, who would not only be here and vengeful, but would both be walking the land of the living _at the same time and with the same goal_ for the first time in a thousand years."

Klaus hadn't thought of that. In fact, he'd avoided thinking about that, when faced with the immediate problem of Silas.

"And regarding our sister," Elijah added as an afterthought, "although the notion of meeting her is certainly an attractive one, she is a Mikaelson, and a witch. Between those two traits, I'd say it's unlikely she's over on the Other Side cooking up benevolent plans to benefit vampire-kind. Your personal discomfort might not be sufficient reason for putting the entire world in jeopardy, Klaus."

There was a pause while they all digested that.

"I think our sister deserves a shot at happiness," Elijah finally finished. Rebekah's eyes widened, at the same moment that Klaus's hardened.

"Tell me you're joking," he growled in a low voice. "Tell me you're not fating me to an eternity of torture."

"I have made my decision," Elijah responded, in the tone he used to indicate that the conversation was over.

Klaus shot to his feet, making to leave, but turned on his heel and leaned over to snarl in Rebekah's ear.

"When you're sick, and dying, and you beg for my blood, I will laugh in your face and compel you to forget me." Then he whirled around and strode from the room.

-0-

While all of this was going on at Klaus's mansion, Caroline was lying sideways across Stefan's bed while the latter held up different ties and she yay-or-nay'd each in turn.

"Don't you think it's a little early in the day for this?" he asked as she vetoed yet another unfortunate piece of fabric.

"I have to do the last fitting for my dress, and then go to the venue for four hours for set-up," Caroline explained with a sigh. "Then I have to pick _up_ the dress, get my hair and nails done, and get back to the banquet hall in time for final prep and the arrival of the catering people. I don't have another open minute all day; if you want my help not to make a fool of yourself at the only modern high school dance in all of Mystic Falls, it's gotta be now." Stefan flashed his eyebrows up and down quickly once—his version of a nod—and picked up another tie.

"I cleaned out Damon's closet and mine, and my attic," he listed. "There has to be something in here that meets with your approval."

"Ooh," Caroline exclaimed, "after we find you one, you should spill orange juice all over Damon's." Stefan smiled a little at that. Caroline's touch of vindictiveness over his brother reminded him strongly of Lexi sometimes…

"So," Caroline added, a little more quietly, "who's taking Elena tonight? You or Damon?" Thankfully, Elena had moved in with Rebekah—the only one who could stand her now—and they could talk about her behind her back in peace.

"Both of us, actually," Stefan admitted, tying on a tie that Caroline had nodded at.

"Oh, how awkward," Caroline commented with a grimace. "Not that one."

"That's exactly what we're going for," Stefan exclaimed, untying and discarding the tie and selecting another. "She's dated both of us, and felt torn between us… hopefully, something will spark an emotion—any emotion."

"Well," Caroline said, standing up and digging through the tie pile herself, "I might be able to help with that. I 'borrowed' her iPod the other day, and a good 80% of the music we play tonight will be songs she likes, especially ones on her frequently-played list." She looped a tie around his neck and held it together with one hand, folded his collar over it with the other, and surveyed the effect critically. "Music tends to be emotionally charged. Songs remind you of ex-boyfriends and television shows and cheer camp and listening to the radio in your first car. Wear this one," she added, releasing the tie and pointing at it as she turned away to silence an alarm on her phone.

"You late for something?" Stefan asked, removing the tie and his dress shirt and laying them on his pillow. He threw on a t-shirt while Caroline dug around in her purse and pulled out a little ear thermometer. If he got a spot on anything he was supposed to be wearing tonight, she'd make him go through the whole choosing process all over again.

"No," she grumbled. "Meredith thinks I'm still running kind of warm for a vampire, but since she can't follow me around with a thermometer all the time, she's got me taking my temperature every hour to try and catch it spiking." The thermometer beeped, and she stuffed it back in her purse, wrote the numbers down on a post-it she'd stuck to the case, and then looked at the time on her phone. "I gotta go meet Bonnie in a few, to check our dresses," she announced.

"I might have something that could help you with that," Stefan said thoughtfully, turning and digging through a box of belt-buckles and cufflinks on his dresser.

"Oh?" Caroline responded skeptically.

"With your temperature, not your dress," he clarified, and she smiled. That made more sense. "There it is," he muttered, and turned around, holding a ring with a large, ovular black stone.

"Is it magical?" Caroline asked, eyebrow raised as she turned it over in her hand and then slid it onto her right forefinger. The stone slowly changed from black to honey-brown. "Wait a sec… is this…?"

"An authentic 1975 mood ring," he informed her, closing the box. "They react to your body temperature. On a vampire, it's usually yellow-green. If it turns blue, you're getting warm. If it turns purple, something's probably wrong."

"Wow," Caroline commented. "You sure know a lot about them."

"This one belonged to an old friend of mine," he explained. "She was a vampire, and wore it for a lot of years, so I know what it's supposed to look like for our body temperature."

"I see," Caroline murmured. She'd heard briefly of Lexi, and suddenly the ring felt heavier on her hand—heavier than the large daylight ring next to it on her middle finger. "Thank you, Stefan."

"You're welcome," he said with a little half-smile. Then Caroline's phone rang.

"It's Bonnie," she announced. "I'm late—gotta go." Stefan nodded, and Caroline gathered up her purse and jacket, and walked out while answering her phone. "I know, sorry Bon; I'll be there in ten…"

-0-

Outside a wedding-dress shop in downtown Mystic Falls, a boy of about twelve stood, arms folded, baseball cap drawn low over his eyes. He looked extremely bored. His mother and sister were probably prom dress shopping, the passers-by thought. They should have left him at home, instead of forcing him to come along and be bored the whole time. Of course, none of them knew that this person's mother and siblings had all died millennia ago, no one had forced him to come but himself, and he was certainly not bored.

But when she finally came within range of his mental powers, she had that damned blonde vampire trotting along next to her. He'd wanted to get the Bennett witch alone, but he had no way of knowing just how immune her perky friend was to his abilities. Straightening up quickly, he walked away before Caroline could catch sight of him and call him by the wrong name again. The last thing he needed was Bonnie to be on her guard.

Oh, well. There would be plenty of opportunities to talk to her tonight. After all, no one would think it odd if she called Stefan by his name when she saw him at Senior Prom…

-0-

"What do you mean, _you can't_?" Caroline hissed, glaring in shock and confusion at Rebekah, whom she'd just asked to help her with the last of the decorations using vamp-speed before the rest of the human helpers got there.

"It's Elijah's test," Rebekah explained. "If I want the cure, I have to live a day as a human—no vampire privileges, no compulsion, no speed, no nothing." Caroline looked like she might have a coronary for a moment. Then she sighed sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Fine. Just—fine. Go and watch the door then—stall them and let me know if anyone's coming in."

"But I—"

"Just because you can't do vamp-y stuff doesn't mean _I_ can't pay attention and hear if you whisper," Caroline reminded her fiercely. "Now, go!" Rebekah turned and walked off quickly, vanishing through the door.

'Why even bother showing up?' Caroline groused internally as she flitted around the room faster than a mortal's eye could follow. She'd specifically scheduled the way she did assuming that she'd have another vampire helping; otherwise, she'd have brought in the rest of the committees and gotten all hands on deck. Oh well. Nothing she could do about it now.

The rest of the crew arrived an hour later, and Caroline was sweating and exhausted, but had somehow managed to do the work of two vampires all on her own. As the others started on their assigned tasks, and Rebekah briefed the DJ, Caroline slipped off to the side to take a breather—the ring was deep blue. She could not _wait_ to be back to normal so she could stop worrying about her body all the time, but she was pretty proud of herself for accomplishing what she did.

Once the preparations had been completed to Caroline's satisfaction, everyone dispersed to get ready for the actual dance. Having a professional manicure was more painful than Caroline had expected, since her left hand still wasn't up to much, but having her hair washed, dried and curled was wonderfully relaxing. After she paid for the treatments, she headed over to the bridal shop where she'd left her dress to be pressed and prepped for the evening.

"I have a pick-up for Forbes," she said as she walked up to the counter. "My phone number is 1-000-000-0000." The lady checked her records and then looked back up with a professional smile.

"Oh, your friend already picked up your dress for you," she informed her sweetly.

"Friend? What friend?" Caroline asked, frowning. Had Bonnie come by earlier? But then how had she paid for it? Mr. Hopkins had given her actual cash to buy a dress, after the last time she'd gone crazy with his credit card, hadn't he?

"Elena… Gilbert?" The woman read a little haltingly, trying to make words out of the messy, curly signature. Caroline froze. She glanced down at her right hand and watched the mood ring transition from gold to blue in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you," she said, careful to keep her tone level, and stalked out of the store. She should've stayed and picked out another dress right then and there, but that felt too much like giving in. She had two hours before she needed to be back at the venue—two hours in which to find something not only as good as, but _better than_ , her perfect kidnapped pink dress. That was the only way to get her revenge in this scenario.

But where the hell cold she go? The bridal shop she'd chosen was the best place in town, and if she drove too far, she wouldn't have time to browse, and would end up settling. She knew Stefan had all kinds of elegant ball-gowns in his attic from his relatives, but Elena had seen them all—she'd borrowed one for the Mikaelson Ball last year after the boys had left the house and stopped body-guarding her…

The Mikaelson ball!

She was in her car and burning rubber on her way back to Klaus's house before she'd finished her thought. The blue dress hadn't had tags, and something about the feel of it was different that the kind of dress you'd find in a store. He hadn't bought it—he'd had it, like the bracelet he'd given her for her birthday… which she'd thrown at his feet in a huff… She actually regretted that part, now that she thought of it. Everything she'd said was true, but maybe she could've acted a little more like an adult when she'd said it. Of course, it wasn't like he'd minded, apparently, given that the next thing she'd heard from him was in the form of a little velvet-covered box with a drawing inside of it and the words "Thank you for your honesty" written at the bottom. That had been the very shocking beginning to their very confusing relationship.

She found him in the lounge, leaning against the mantelpiece and staring broodingly into the fire.

"Elena _stole_ my prom dress," she exclaimed without preamble. He didn't react at all.

"Did you hear me?" she asked, approaching him.

"Yes, Caroline, I heard you," he sighed. "In fact, I'm quite sure the whole of Mystic Falls heard you. I'm in no mood for company." Something about how he'd phrased that ticked her off even more. Company? She freaking _lived_ there. After he'd basically stalked her and gone to such great lengths to get close to her, now she was "company?"

"Well, I'm sorry you're having personal issues," she snapped, "but I have a real crisis on my hands!" Finally he turned to look at her, face stony. So, he really _was_ in a temper. She'd never backed down over that before, and she wasn't about to start now. She glared up at him, and he glared right back. Then his face contorted, and he was choking with laughter.

"It is not funny!" she growled.

"No, I know," he assured her, "I know." His lips were pressed together, his cheeks tight. Another snort escaped him and he covered his mouth.

"Then stop laughing!" she almost shrieked. Klaus worked very hard to control himself, but his eyes were still twinkling with mirth.

"Look," she sighed. "I know prom isn't important to you, but it's important to me."

"Surely finding another dress is within your substantial vampire capabilities?" he said, still smirking a little.

"Oh, but I don't want another dress!" she cried in frustration. "I want to look _hot_!" She gestured at herself as she spoke. "Like, Princess-Grace-of-Monaco hot! I want Elena to walk into that room, and the first emotion she turns back on is _mad jealousy_!" He looked at her, his face clearly asking, 'So then, what do you want _me_ to do?'

"So..." she finished with a winning smile, "Could you _please_ go back into your creepy trophy case of family collectibles and dig me out something of royal caliber?" Girls in the 21st Century did not actually bat their eyelashes, but, well Caroline's mascara was irritating her eyes, and she blinked once, twice… And then he was smiling again, all dimples and devilish charm, and Caroline's stomach gave a tiny little flutter.

"Right this way," he said smoothly, turning and beckoning her to follow him. She took a deep, silent breath, and walked with him out of the room, down the hall, and into the West wing of the house, where she'd never had occasion to go before today.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected, exactly—a larger, better organized version of the Salvatores' attic, perhaps—but if she'd thought the Salvatore family were packrats, it was nothing compared to what the Mikaelsons kept around. A thousand years made for a lot of clutter, and unlike their vampire neighbors, they'd only kept the best, most expensive things. He led her past a full armory, organized by years of history, with bows and arrows and swords on one wall slowly transitioning into fancy sniper rifles on the opposite one. They passed several rooms full of furniture, and one where every inch of wall was covered with tapestries. One room had a bunch of diagonal book cubbies, full to bursting with parchment scrolls, and several more were dedicated to books—apparently he only kept his favorites in the library. He even had an entire room full of what she thought were car engines; no wonder he and Stefan had been able to kill an hour on that subject alone!

"Here we are," he announced quietly, gesturing at another doorway. Caroline stepped inside. It was about the same size as the wedding boutique where she'd found her ill-fated pink gown, except without a checkout counter. There were even a few mannequins, and a three-way, full-length mirror with a pedestal in front of it in the corner.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, awe softening her words as she looked slowly around.

"Some of them are Rebekah's," he listed, "although she took the ones she actually likes when she moved out and left me to deal with the rest. Some of them I sort of picked up over the years, some of them—a lot of them, actually—are Mary's, a few of them my mother bought for herself during her brief return to the land of the living, and a great many were actually designed by Kol."

"What?" she asked in surprise, whirling around to face him. He nodded.

"We've all tried our hands at various hobbies and professions, over the years," he said with a shrug. "Fashion design suited him, although he was rather embarrassed about it, and, again, left me to deal with the ensuing storage woes. This is one of his," he added, digging around on one of the racks and showing her a pale sea-foam green number with lace and little blue rhinestones—or were those actual sapphires?—at the neckline and frilly hem.

"Huh," she said quietly, walking over and rubbing the smooth material between her fingers. "He's pretty good. Who would'a thought?" She took the dress and held it up to herself. It was an inch too short, and she hadn't put on high heels yet. That was disappointing.

"He made your blue dress, too," Klaus commented. Caroline nodded.

"I'm five-foot-eight and will be wearing three-inch heels," she said, although clearly he already knew that, given how well he'd sized her up for the ball gown. "Find me anything he designed that will fit me." Klaus started pawing through the rack closest to him, and Caroline turned to dig through the one behind her.

"Color preference?" he asked.

"Fabulous and eye-catching," she responded immediately. She heard him suppressing more laughter.

"Seems the color-wheel has changed somewhat since the last time I saw it," he commented quietly. Caroline rolled her eyes, pulling out a piece of ice-pink silk and surveying it critically. Something about the neckline just seemed _wrong_. She put it back.

"My god, I'd forgotten about this one," Klaus snickered, and Caroline looked over her shoulder at a voluminous southern-belle gown that looked like it belonged with a massive hoop skirt. She snorted, and then covered her mouth in embarrassment. She hadn't intended to make that particularly embarrassing sound. Klaus's eyes flashed sidelong to look at her. She quickly turned away.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"I didn't say anything," he responded innocently. "Oh, here we go." Caroline looked back, half expecting him to have found something else to make her laugh, and her jaw dropped.

White, strapless, and covered in endless pearls, the floor-length dress partly opened up near the knee to expose a frilly white underskirt, but clung tightly to the thighs and hips to accent the wearer's feminine curves. It was classic, it was gorgeous, and there was no way in the world that any other girl in Mystic Falls would be dressed in anything half as nice.

"Try it on," he said with a smile, watching her expression. She nodded and took the hanger from him, and he turned and left to give her some privacy.

Sure enough, he was good at sizing her up. The dress fit perfectly, although, as she admired herself in the mirror, she got the sneaking suspicion that it was supposed to go with a veil and a bouquet of flowers. It was tempting to go back and look at the rack—see if there was, in fact, a matching headpiece—but she thought better of it. If she did prove to herself that it was a wedding dress, then that might be awkward.

It was perfect. There was a reason Cinderella had turned heads, she reflected, a triumphant smile curving up her lips.

Half an hour later, she'd carefully pinned up her curls in little bunches at the base of her scalp, with some pearl hairpins that Klaus had found in yet another treasure room, along with a pair of simple, white heels. She'd added another coat of mascara and a soft tint of brown eyeshadow, just to make her eyes stand out a little bit more. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Beat that, Elena Gilbert, she thought as she swept out of the dress room and back down the hall.

Klaus was back in the living room—he'd wandered off while she was doing hair and makeup, and he surveyed her approvingly.

"You look like a queen," he said warmly. Unnoticed by either of them, the mood ring turned subtly darker.

"Why, thank you," she responded, turning around proudly to show herself off.

"You'd best be going, though," he added. "Unless you're really determined to do a Cinderella impression and turn up fashionably late." Caroline nodded, and turned to leave. Then she paused, and turned back. He was still sitting on the sofa, a glass of scotch in hand, looking like he had no plans to leave the house again that night.

"Come with me," she suggested. He quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm a bit old for a high school prom," he said witheringly.

"You've attended three high school dances in the last year," she reminded him, "but now prom is too weird? Come on. It could be fun. I'm sure Damon and Matt have spiked the punch by now, and besides, you look good in a tux."

"I did tell you when you arrived," he said, sounding a little grumpy again, "I'm hardly in the mood." Caroline sighed. Between what Rebekah had told her and what she'd guessed on her own, she could deduce what was going on.

"Look," she said, walking over and sitting down next to him to look him straight in the eye. She put her hand on top of his. The unexpected contact was electrifying, and suddenly he found he was a great deal less focused on his more important problems. "I get it." She continued, face serious. "I was there, remember? But there isn't a thing you can do about the cure situation until either Silas comes out of whatever hole he crawled into, or Elijah makes a decision, right?" A little of the hardness from earlier creeped back into his eyes, but then retreated right away when Caroline squeezed his hand.

"So, you can sit here and brood, which doesn't help anything, _or…_ you can let me do what I do best."

"Distract me from the current issue," he finished for her. She nodded, and stood back up.

"Besides," she added. "In what possible world do you—" she pointed at him, "hang around here, while I—" she indicated herself, "go somewhere _not_ here, dressed like _this_?" Klaus pursed his lips and tried to frown, but his lips broke into a smile after a few seconds.

"Senior Prom," he reiterated. She nodded.

"I'll see you there," she said smugly as she turned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist adding in a little Steroline friendship! But what is it with the Salvatores getting jewelry from girls they knew in the past and then re-gifting it to girls they know in the present? Rebekah's' necklace to Elena, Emily Bennett's crystal to Caroline, and now Lexi's ring to Caroline? Seems like a recurring theme, doesn't it?
> 
> The conversation with the Originals! So, I don't understand why it never occurred to anyone that Mikael and Esther are on the Other Side, and would be resurrected if Silas drops the veil! C'mon, guys! Frying pan, fire?


	15. Bad Body Double

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knows the song in the chapter title? :-) It wasn't used in TVD, but it desperately needed to be! Oh my goodness…
> 
> Speaking of songs! Throughout this chapter, I reference several songs used in the Vampire Diaries and one that wasn't. I did so because I created a playlist on YouTube called "Red Queen Prom," and you can access it here:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=haca2VY2fFY&list=PLHUArU1ORAr3GI7UVp9ho5LOedfQzhR3y
> 
> I thought maybe it would be a cool effect, to make the music available to you guys while you're reading the chapter. It's not necessary to listen to the songs to read the chapter, but just be aware that—except for "Shut up and Dance" which I included purely because I thought it would be a good fit for the scene—the songs mentioned are the tracks that played during the relevant scenes in the show. (The playlist goes a little further than the chapter; I tossed in some of my other favorite TVD songs at the end for the enjoyment of all concerned. Please note that I no longer have access to that YouTube account, so any comments/messages sent there will not reach me.)

When Caroline arrived back at the Prom venue, quite a few people had already turned up. The music was playing—Foster the People, _Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)_ —and the punch bowl was down to two-thirds. Several couples had begun dancing, but many others hung around the tables in clusters, setting down purses and stowing phones in hidden pockets.

To her immense gratification, a great many heads turned when she entered the room. She'd been correct about the dress. No other girl in all of Mystic Falls—and probably all of the Eastern United States—was dressed in anything quite so amazing. She smiled at the people who stared at her, and glided over to Rebekah, Tiki and April.

"Sorry I'm late," she breezed. Tiki looked like she'd swallowed a lemon.

"No, it's fine," April stammered. "You look… fantastic. I thought you said you were wearing pink?"

"I upgraded," Caroline responded, her smile dimples deepening just a touch. Rebekah's eyebrows were raised to the highest point they could reach on her forehead. Apparently she was familiar with her brother's designs.

"You _didn't_ ," she whispered as April and Tiki slipped off to attend to various committee duties.

"Elena stole my dress," Caroline murmured back. "I'm going to steal her thunder. Fair's fair." She shrugged. Rebekah laughed and nodded. Although she and Emotionless Elena were friends—sort of—she could appreciate a good mean-girl power-struggle.

"You'll need to keep an eye on the catering people—make sure they're bussing the tables and keeping the punch bowl filled," Caroline instructed. "And don't forget to remind April ten minutes before the drawing for King and Queen—she _will_ forget if left to her own devices."

"And what'll you be doing?" Rebekah asked with a slight frown. "You're as dateless as I am, and I thought you couldn't stand the idea of leaving things in the hands of others."

"I," Caroline admitted, " _might_ have invited your brother."

Rebekah blinked twice.

"You didn't," she growled for the second time in as many minutes, but with none of the amused scandal in her voice this time.

"Yeah," Caroline shrugged, looking over Rebekah's shoulder at a familiar trio in black tuxes and a hot pink dress entering the ballroom. "I did. Gotta go, Elena's here." And with that, she swept back to the doorway.

Elena didn't look jealous, or upset, or anything remotely emotional, but she did appear surprised; whatever solution she'd expected Caroline to come up with, this designer creation of silk and lace and pearls certainly wasn't it. She composed herself quickly, but Caroline had seen the momentary lapse. It wasn't much, but it was something. And besides, even if Elena couldn't appreciate it, at least everyone else knew that Caroline Forbes outshone everyone tonight.

"Hey guys," Caroline greeted them. Damon and Stefan were both looking her up and down, impressed in spite of themselves. "Nice dress, Elena," she added sweetly.

"Thanks," Elena responded immediately. "I thought I'd do it a favor." Before Caroline could retort, the song changed, and _All I Need_ by Within Temptation began playing.

"I do believe that's our song," Damon announced, like he was actually surprised to hear it, instead of having spent the better part of an afternoon with everyone coming up with a playlist specifically designed to trigger Elena's emotions. He took Elena's arm and led her—a little forcefully—out onto the dance floor. Caroline sighed huffily, watching them.

"I know we're trying to kill her with kindness, but can't I just kill her?" she muttered to Stefan, her eyes locked on her ex-boyfriend and ex-best-friend. Stefan chuckled a little.

"I see you found a dress," he commented. She smirked.

"It's from Klaus," she admitted. She could feel him looking at her. "Don't ask," she added with a laugh.

"You know you have him wrapped around your little finger," Stefan commented, "right?"

"Right," Caroline sighed, half sarcastically, half wonderingly. "Well, I guess we'll see. If he shows up."

"If he… _shows up_?" Stefan repeated incredulously. Caroline snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was looking at her like he really wasn't sure he wanted to know where this was going. She shrugged.

"If Damon can come as Elena's date without even _pretending_ to be a chaperone," she responded, "I think I have every right to invite a date who's _slightly_ too old for high school."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Stefan commented. Caroline rolled her eyes, but she could hardly be annoyed. She knew he was just looking out for her.

"Don't worry," she assured him, looking him right in the eyes. "I do." He gazed back at her for a long moment before she looked away and spoke again, breaking the odd tension.

"Making any progress with the dress thief yet?" she asked. She knew they'd passed through the "Walk of Memories" virtual photo album before entering—she'd tailored that up too.

"It's hard to say," he responded vaguely, looking distractedly over at his brother and his ex. "Honestly… I think this is all affecting me a lot more than it's affecting her." Caroline's heart ached for her friend, and she reached out and took his hand.

"Well," she murmured, "you guys were in love. It's normal to have a lot of trouble moving on."

"How does anyone _move on_ from that kind of love?" he whispered, and he had a strange, faraway look in his eyes. His mouth was set in lines of misery that Caroline had though his little liaisons with Rebekah had eased.

"I don't know," she admitted, thinking about Tyler, and experiencing a painful stabbing sensation in her own chest. "I think that someday, you'll meet someone new, and fall madly in love. And you'll have moved on without even knowing it." He looked back at her, expression unreadable. Then he looked over her shoulder.

"Speaking of which…" he said quietly. Caroline turned, releasing his hand after a final squeeze.

She'd been right about more than just her dress; Klaus _did_ look good in a tux. He'd donned a black jacket and vest combo, and had even found a tie in the exact shade of creamy pearl-white as Caroline's dress. Something about his tie triggered something irritating in her recent memory, but she shoved it down and away, hard. She wasn't going to be annoyed tonight. Tonight, she was going to have a truly epic senior prom, and nothing was going to get in her way.

She made her way through the still-growing crowd and press of dancing bodies until she reached him, and then looked him over, smiling warmly in approval.

"I'm not entirely sure who I should make aware of this," he said, loudly, over the music, but with a conspiratorial air, "but someone has poured large quantities of cheap alcohol in the punch."

"Tell everyone who looks like they need a drink, I guess," Caroline responded, and they both laughed a little.

"So," Caroline added when the laughter had died and the moment threatened to turn awkward, "there was one important question I completely forgot to ask you before I invited you."

"And what would that be?" he asked, his eyes becoming slightly guarded. She pointed upward at the speakers, indicating the music that had just started— _Shut Up and Dance_ , by Walk the Moon, appropriately enough.

"Do you know how to dance to this kind of music?" she asked, smirking. His lips curled upwards to match hers, and the hint of concern vanished from his eyes.

"I take that as a challenge, love," he responded, and then without further ado, took her arm and led her onto the dance floor.

It became apparent immediately that Klaus frequented nightclubs for more than just blood. He did indeed know how to dance to pop music, and Caroline found herself feeling unexpectedly grateful for Rebekah's interest in prom committee; no one was going to interrupt them unless it was a serious emergency. This was the first time she'd actually wanted to dance with him, and she was surprised at how easy and natural it was to have him touching her. She'd expected to be nervous, being so close to him like this, but she was completely comfortable.

"You're really turning heads tonight, darling," he said after a few minutes. She glanced around. Sure enough, a lot of people were staring at them.

"So, either they're all experiencing dress-envy," she suggested, "or they're staring at you." He smirked. "How old are, you, actually—I mean, when you were turned?" she asked out of curiosity. She knew Rebekah was eighteen, and Klaus was older than her, and he was younger than Elijah, but Elijah could've easily been thirty.

"Twenty-three," he responded. Younger than she'd expected, but perhaps time and experience had changed and aged his face.

 _So What_ , by Pink, came on, and Klaus looked up with a disparaging look on his face.

"Do tell me you didn't pick the playlist," he sighed. She stuck her tongue out.

"It wasn't just me," she retorted. "Stefan, Damon, Bonnie and Matt all helped. Eighty percent of what we're hearing are songs that have some kind of meaning to Elena. Old cheer routines that she liked, songs that remind her of relationships, some of her parents' favorites, Jenna's, Jeremy's… Her running playlist is scattered in there… all kinds of stuff."

"I see," he said. "You're really pulling out all the stops."

"Well, music can be very nostalgic," Caroline reasoned. "If it were me, I'd be a bundle of nerves by now. But, I'm really sound-oriented," she admitted as an afterthought.

"Are you, now," he murmured, and her heart fluttered a little. His voice, that accent! Why had she just given him another weapon he could use against her? Her knees felt a little weak; her desire to distract _him_ was backfiring on _her_.

She hurriedly glanced around, finding Matt and Bonnie, who were also dancing, and Rebekah, who was still in a knot of committee people, looking harried. She felt a little sorry for her—but only a little. _Be careful what you wish for_ , she thought. Humanity was a lot of work sometimes.

-0-

Stefan groaned and rubbed his neck. He had grit in his eyes, and blood all over his collar—his blood, he realized. Someone had drank from him and then snapped his neck. He groaned and rolled over, elbows rubbing against rough dirt. It took him a moment of floundering to open his eyes, and then he stared blearily around at the familiar interior of the All-Purpose-Salvatore-Family-Basement-Cell.

He remembered getting ready for Prom, and Elena coming into his room, looking odd. She'd said she was feeling _stirrings_ , hints of emotions, and didn't want to go to the dance, because she thought she might break down in front of everybody. He'd been ecstatic, and had gently put his hands on her shoulders as he assured her that everything would be fine, that they would help her through it…

Then, nothing. He stood up, and rattled the door, although he knew it was useless. The thing was designed to hold a vampire.

"Hello!" he yelled. "Anybody home? I'm locked in here!"

It would make sense for Elena to trick him and try to keep him out of the way so he couldn't keep trying to turn her emotions back on, but why wouldn't she have done the same to Damon? And if she hadn't, then why hadn't Damon found him yet? It wasn't like this was the most creative of places to stow him. Hadn't his brother noticed that he was missing?

Unless… unless he _wasn't_ missing.

"Silas!" he gasped, rattling the bars with all of his strength.

-0-

He'd just intended to come and speak with Bonnie. He wasn't even going to enter the building; his plan was to excuse himself, manipulate others into driving Bonnie to seek solitude, and then approach her when she was sad and vulnerable. But he'd made the mistake of getting in that limo with Elena Gilbert, and now he found himself thinking, _one dance wouldn't hurt anything. If I just relax my mind, I can pretend that she's my Amara, who I've been pining after for oh, so long. Just a few minutes of a beautiful fantasy—I deserve that much after two thousand years of solitude. Then I'll speak with Bonnie._

And then there was Caroline Forbes, seeing Stefan as plain as day and thinking nothing of it. His plan had been a good one; that was certain. Luckily, she'd invited that hybrid bastard, and was wonderfully preoccupied with him in the middle of the dance floor. Damon slipped off to get some of the spiked punch, leaving Amara's shadow-self in Silas's arms.

He could tell from her mind that she knew the songs that were playing. Each one had some significance to her, to her friends, to her family, but she was incapable of feeling the emotions associated. However, the memories themselves were flawless, and he read in her thoughts that the song currently playing— _A Drop in The Ocean_ , but Ron Pope—was one that she and Stefan had often listened to together as a couple.

He could also tell that her conscious thoughts were on the other side of the room; rather than focus on anything her friends and lovers were trying to evoke in her, she was constantly watching Rebekah Mikaelson, making sure that she acted human, so that…

So that her older brother Elijah would give her the cure at the end of the night.

Bingo.

He'd expected to have to trick or torture the thing out of somebody, but lo and behold, it was as simple as that. When he was finished here, all he'd need to do would be to distract everyone for a few minutes, assume Rebekah's form, get the cure from her brother, and vanish into the night. Now all he had to worry about was getting Bonnie Bennett to cooperate, and acting believably Stefan-like around Caroline Forbes.

"So," he murmured, partly to keep up the ruse, and partly out of fascination with this trendy, jaded, broken version of his one true love. "This… us. You feel nothing?"

"I feel nothing," she responded with certainty. His playful, puzzle-solving side, suppressed for centuries except when he needed to manipulate tourists into feeding him blood, awakened, and he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"I don't believe you…"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Klaus's hand was cupped around Caroline's waist as they slow-danced to the gentle, romantic tune. He was remarkably warm, for a vampire; she suspected his werewolf gene. Her mood ring—easily visible, since she was resting her hand on his shoulder—was teal blue, but she was quite sure that was less of a health thing and more of an actual mood thing. The low light, the soulful music, the closeness… They'd danced like this at the twenties dance, but that had been sort of under duress, and she'd been in a mood over the alpha-male territorial displays. This time, she didn't have a jealous date sitting on the bleachers waiting for her to finish dancing with his arch-nemesis. This time, she'd invited him, wanted him to be here.

A thrilling thought occurred to her, right about then. She was single. They were so close—close enough that if she leaned into him just a bit, they'd be kissing. He'd like that—she had no doubt. She'd like that too, if she was being honest with herself.

But it wasn't just about wanting him. There were feelings there too, still tangled up and confused. And a deep thing that she'd been meaning to say since the moment she'd opened her eyes after her brush with death. They needed to talk before doing anything else with their mouths.

How was she supposed to bring it up, though? If she'd thought to say it a few minutes ago, when they were talking about sound, it might've actually made some kind of sense, but they'd been silent for a while now, and if she just blurted it out, it would be so awkward… Why did things always have to be so complicated with him? She was hyperaware of his presence near her—his hands on her waist, his body so close to hers that she could almost feel his heartbeat over the rhythms of the music and the crowd around them, his face, _right there_ …

The song changed, then. _Kiss Me,_ by Ed Sheeran. It was another slow, romantic number, one she'd included because Damon had admitted it had been playing on the radio the day they'd first made love. The music didn't help matters, given the number of times she'd seen her situation with Klaus as paralleling Elena's and Damon's…

"Something bothering you, love?" Klaus murmured. She had a split second to make a decision about how to answer that, and panic overwhelmed her.

"Just those two," she responded with a sigh, nodding towards Elena and Stefan. Or rather, towards Stefan, who Elena was in the process of abandoning in the middle of a dance so she could go talk to Rebekah. "I know he's really upset about all of this…" Coward, coward, coward! But how was she supposed to broach the topic? Start with something connected and slowly bring it around? Tell him she had something important to say? Kiss him, right here, right now, and worry about the talking part later? Tomorrow morning, maybe? Her heart was pounding.

But… truth was, she knew she wasn't entirely over Tyler. Yes, he was gone—out of her life for good, but when she'd lie in bed at night, alone, she'd feel so cold sometimes, even though vampires didn't get cold. She'd miss him, then; even cry sometimes. She wanted Klaus—badly. But if this was crossing over too much into simply wanting _someone_ , then it wouldn't be fair to either of them. She didn't want to make him into her rebound boy. She remembered she'd had the same problem with Tyler, after Matt had broken things off with her. She liked him, yes, but she didn't want to rush things. She'd compensated by friend-zoning him for three months, and afterwards, she'd felt like she'd wasted so much time by not being with him.

And now, she was in the same position all over again. What was she supposed to do? If she moved her head a few inches, everything would change—forever.

And forever was a long time, for a vampire.

So this wasn't a step to take lightly.

Stefan looked lost; off-balance. She hadn't intended to get distracted from this moment, but her protective friend instincts were counteracting her other feelings. And honestly, right now, maybe a little distraction was healthy.

"Fate is cruel, sometimes," Klaus murmured, following her eyes. That was when it hit her—what she'd been annoyed about earlier. She'd noticed briefly that Stefan had worn a different tie, after she'd spent all morning helping him pick the right one. Ordinarily, it would have been tasteless to give him a hard time about it, but she got the feeling that right now a minute or two of fluffy, Caroline-ish banter might do wonders for his mental health.

Klaus loosened his hold on her when he felt her pulling away. She looked up at him, apologetic.

"I will be right back," she murmured, and he nodded. She headed towards Stefan, and he made his way towards the punch bowl. She knew he respected family bonds, and she saw her friends as her family.

"Hey," she greeted Stefan when she got within ordinary human hearing distance. He toasted her with a flask he'd produced from somewhere, and then took a swig.

"So," she huffed in mock annoyance, "I've been meaning to ask you about this." She pointed to his chest.

-0-

This was an unexpected development. Silas was at a bit of a loss as Caroline, the only person in the room whose mind he couldn't read, gestured at his body, saying she had to ask him a question.

"Oh?" he asked back. The song playing on the speakers above them changed to a strangely ominous, yet darkly alluring guitar track. _Eyes on Fire_ was the title he picked out of the minds of some of the students nearby.

"What is this?" she demanded, grabbing his tie. He frowned. He hadn't gotten the impression they were involved, but this was a strange development if they weren't. "Really?" she added, seeing his expression. "After this morning?"

Apparently, they _were_ involved, then. His Shadow Self had strange taste in rebound girls.

"I didn't think you wanted everyone knowing," he said softly. None of her friends had an inkling of anything she was talking about, so apparently neither of them had said a word to anyone about having been together that morning. "But if you really object to secrecy," he added, stepping closer and placing a hand on her waist. He looked deep into her eyes. She blinked up at him, looking confused.

"Stefan, what are you talking about?" she laughed, a little nervously.

-0-

When Caroline had wandered off in the middle of a romantic dance to go and talk to Stefan, Klaus had done his level best not to be miffed about it; he'd gotten the impression that Stefan was like an older brother to her, and he respected the bonds of family, even if they weren't by blood. But when he'd taken as much time as humanly possible—no joke intended—to fetch two cups of one-part-alcohol, two-parts-sugar, three-parts-cheap-fruit-juice, he turned around just in time to see Stefan, who had once gone to Gloria's Bar with him and called him "brother," put his hand on Caroline's waist seductively, and take a step forward.

Anger rippled through him, and he nearly crushed the plastic cups in his hands. What was that fool doing with _his_ Caroline? He watched her take a step back, heard her awkward laugh, and by the time the sound had died, he'd flashed to her side. Stefan looked up at him questioningly, and then seemed to realize what he'd heard and seen.

"Listen," he said, raising his hand in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean—it's not like that."

"You sure seemed to think it was, three seconds ago," Caroline remarked, taking the cup out of Klaus's right hand and sipping it. Klaus's eyes took in the still-lost expression on her face in an instant, and then returned to Stefan.

"I'm just kind of drunk, honestly," Stefan hedged, scratching the back of his neck and taking a step back. "Sorry."

Klaus was about to say something back, but Caroline, brow furrowed, swirling her drink thoughtfully, beat him to it.

"You aren't Stefan," she said quietly. "Are you."

Everyone froze.


	16. Mind over Matter

" _You aren't Stefan," Caroline said quietly, brow furrowed, swirling her drink thoughtfully. "Are you."_

_Everyone froze._

Literally. The girls' skirts and hair swayed back and forth on the dance floor, but their feet had stopped moving. The guys' expressions, even their lines of sight, paused—some of them in mid-blink. Caroline's eyes darted around the room as she heard all human movement stop. Damon was dipping Elena—her spine was in an awkward position, and his arms were the only thing supporting her. But they, too were frozen. The music continued playing, but the DJ's hands were poised over his computer.

She looked up at Klaus. His jaw was clenched—he was angry. He hadn't quite caught onto what her words implied. His eyes were on her, he was breathing, his heart was beating. But he was perfectly immobilized—he didn't so much as twitch.

She looked back at Stefan.

No. Not Stefan.

At Silas.

He was looking back at her in fascination, shaking his head.

"How do you do that?" he asked, half musing, half menace, taking a step closer.

"Do what?" she demanded. "I'm not doing anything." Eighteen years of learning how to present herself to people was what kept her voice steady, and prevented her knees from trembling. But she was petrified. This guy could even trump _Klaus_ , without batting an eyelash. She felt like a mouse staring down a lion.

"I've seen plenty of memories of you," he continued, like he hadn't even heard her denial. "You have a troublesome habit of getting in the way of my plans. You delayed the demon massacre, tried to stop the deaths of the witches, and then there was that business with this… thing." He pointed at Klaus. "They didn't make demons like that in my day," he added, as if to himself.

"Careful," she cautioned, offense at the rudeness towards Klaus emboldening her a little. "Don't want to sound like an old fart before you hit five-thousand." His focus snapped back to her.

"You really _are_ sassy," he muttered. Then his hand whipped forward and gripped her upper arm with crushing force.

Apparently, he hadn't paid enough attention to all of those memories of her he'd viewed. That, or everyone she knew underestimated her. In a blur of movement, she grabbed his hand and rotated it, locking his elbow up, and then bent forward, slamming him onto the dance floor. He twisted, but she twisted with him, and then she was on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Apparently, they didn't teach judo in ancient Greece. He snarled, and struggled, but his own joints were pinning him down; she had leverage and brute strength on him.

"What's this?" she gloated, confidence resurging. Whatever this guy was, he was slower than a vampire, and weaker than a vampire. Was mind-control really his only trick? "I thought you were supposed to be scary. Hard to believe people have driven themselves crazy with terror over you."

She heard rustling around her—people were moving again. Satisfaction thrilled through her—she'd broken his concentration. Unfortunately, she'd ripped her beautiful skirt in the struggle…

Then Klaus and Damon grabbed her arms and hauled her off of Silas before turning into living statues again, pinning her between them by twisting her wrists behind her. A third set of hands—Elena's, she guessed, appeared, holding onto her shoulder to keep her in place, and pressing the tip of a stake into her back, where the readiest path to her heart lay. The rest of the prom guests remained stock-still, except for the DJ, who unfroze long enough to turn off the music, leaving Caroline and Silas in a room where the only sounds were the hearts and lungs of a few hundred high-schoolers.

Silas stood up, straightening his suit jacket and tell-tale tie. Brushing an imaginary speck of dust off of his shoulder for effect, he brought his gaze back up to meet hers.

"Yes," he sighed in response to her earlier comment, "but in two millennia, even I get off-days. Now, back to the matter at hand. I need you to stop interfering with me."

It was eerie, having Klaus, Elena and Damon so near to her, but not be themselves. It scared her, more than Silas's presence. She'd grown accustomed to Klaus's touch being a reassurance or protection, but now he was the aggressor, and apparently couldn't do a thing about it. She knew to be wary around Elena when she was in this state, and she was always wary around Damon, but…

"Hello," Silas pressed, grabbing her chin roughly and interrupting her thoughts. "Did you hear me? I'm not accustomed to having to wait for a response." Klaus's and Damon's hands tightened in response to Silas's impatience. Elena also jabbed the stake a centimeter or so into Caroline's back. Not a terribly big deal—not nearly deep enough to hit anything important—but she started bleeding freely down onto the perfectly white, perfectly expensive, perfectly _borrowed_ dress. Another spark of irritation flashed through her mind, and her courage resurged.

"It's probably a good experience for you," she shot back, carefully keeping the pain out of her voice. "Patience is a virtue, after all."

Damon's hands twisted up and over, and Caroline screamed as her upper arm broke. Silas's hand was still locked around her jaw, and Klaus's fingers tightened—a silent threat on behalf of the one controlling him.

"All I want," Silas whispered, "is to die and be reunited with my one true love. Surely you, of all people, can understand that longing… I've seen Tyler's mind—seen how you two cared for one another. But life tore you apart. And, like you said, you met someone else, fell in love, and moved on. But I can't do that. Amara is the only woman I will ever love—she is my _everything_. And _she is dead_." He choked up for a moment, and all Caroline could see was Stefan, the day he realized Elena was sleeping with his brother, and lost to him forever. She wasn't up to feeling sympathy for someone while they were in the act of torturing her, but empathy kept the venom in her at bay, and preventing her from commenting that he could hardly have tried, since he was trapped in a cave the whole time and therefore kept out of the dating pool. Instead, she opted for simple rationality.

"If we let you do that, then you unleash every supernatural creature that has died in the last two-thousand years. Everyone here—including me—has enemies over there. The man who murdered my father and then tortured and attempted to kill me is over there. Mikael, the vampire-hunting vampire is over there. Between those two alone, my entire species could be eradicated. So, yes, I feel sympathy for you. But I can't justify that kind of carnage. I'm sorry."

There was an audible snap as her other arm broke, and she screamed again. The stake shoved another centimeter deeper—now things were getting dangerous. How close was her heart to her back? She couldn't remember—her mind was a whirling chaos of pain and fear. She should've been smarter about this—pretended to cooperate or something. But looking into Stefan's eyes, while being held captive by Klaus, Damon and Elena, was just a _little_ disorienting. Of course, she knew it wasn't Stefan, but it sure looked like him. Why could she only see that particular illusion? It made no sense…

"Why don't you just kill me?" she demanded in a pained gasp. "If you're so worried about me getting in your way."

She didn't realize he had a pocketknife until he jammed it into her leg, sending a little river of blood down her skirt. She tried to back away, but the stake in her back and the hands on her healing arms left her no direction in which to move.

"This may take a while," he said conversationally. Clearly, his emotional moment was over. He pushed the knife in deeper, holding her eyes with his. She clamped her jaw shut, determined not to cry out. "True, you're a liability, but as far as anyone can tell, you're a completely ordinary vampire. So, if whatever you're doing is something that could be learned by others, I need to know about it. And that means keeping you alive.

But," he added, finally pulling the knife out and holding it to her face for emphasis as he growled out his next words, "you _will stand down_ , Caroline Forbes. There are plenty of other ways to get you to cooperate, besides killing you. If you continue to oppose me, you have plenty of loved ones for me to seek revenge on. _Do I make myself clear?_ "

"Crystal," Caroline whispered. She'd intended to snap it in his face sarcastically, but panic and pain had taken her breath away, and she could barely make a sound.

"Are you sure?" he asked, letting the blade of his knife slice a paper-thin line into her cheek. It healed over immediately, releasing only a single drop of blood.

"I understand!" She choked out.

"Good," he responded, wiping the flat of the knife on her collarbone before closing it and backing away. Mercifully, Klaus, Damon and Elena also released her, and the stake was withdrawn from her back. It took all of her willpower not to sink to the floor—her knees had no strength left in them.

"But just to be absolutely clear," Silas added, and then he turned and walked at ordinary human speeds to the door, which he opened, strode through, and shut behind him without ever finishing his sentence.

Caroline's legs folded, and she was kneeling on the floor, gasping for breath. She had just enough time to reflect that the guy apparently wasn't used to having to communicate verbally, before everyone around her started moving again. The couples that had frozen in mid-dance took a few more steps before stopping in confusion and staring at the DJ, who frantically fumbled with his computer, trying to figure out why the music had stopped. Damon and Elena stared around in confusion, neither of them sure how they'd gotten halfway across the room.

"Caroline!" Klaus exclaimed, kneeling quickly beside her. Apparently, he'd noticed all the blood. The anger, concern and hint of fear in his voice made a lot of her fear fade, and as the music started up again, she planted one of her feet to stand up. Unfortunately, since Klaus had no idea her upper arm was broken, he put his hand there—gently but firmly—to help her stand. She gasped and pulled away, clutching at the almost-healed limb. Any bruising on the surface had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the fracture would need a minute or so more to knit back together.

"Don't; it's broken," she gritted out.

" _How_?" He gasped. His eyes were dark with worry, and more anger, likely at whoever was responsible for this.

"Silas," she responded without skipping a beat. "He was impersonating Stefan. STEFAN!" She exclaimed, suddenly realizing that no one had seen the actual Stefan since prom began. She managed to stand up, and a flood of relief in her arms signaled to her that the bones had finished healing. She turned and ran to the table where she'd left her purse, fumbling inside of it for her phone. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Rebekah doing the same at another table. So much for no vamp-hearing today, Caroline thought briefly before returning to the problem at hand.

"What did he want?" Elena demanded dispassionately.

"Me to quit preventing supernatural Armageddon," Caroline snapped as she found Stefan in her contacts and hit the call button. "C'mon, Stefan, pick up…" she groaned as she headed out to the foyer so she could hear better. The line rang six times before going to voicemail. She didn't bother leaving a message and hung up. Elena, Damon and Klaus had followed her out—Klaus most closely. She must really have looked like something, with all the blood on her white dress.

"What _happened_?" Damon demanded in an irritated hiss. He hated being out of the loop.

"Silas was pretending to be Stefan," Caroline listed irritably, "he froze you all so he could talk to me alone, and told me to quit getting in his way. Then he left. Before prom, when did you last talk to Stefan today?"

"I took Elena out of town to hunt this morning," Damon responded, shaking his head. "When we got home and she went dress… thieving… Stefan had already left—I assumed to go find a four-legged beverage in the woods. He came back home an hour before we left for the dance, took a shower, worked on his calculus homework, put on the monkey suit, and then got in the limo with us."

"How did you know it wasn't Stefan?" Klaus asked.

"Because I picked his outfit for him this morning," she responded. "I went over there before I went dress… losing." She shot a glare at Elena, who smoothed her hands possessively over her skirt. There were a few dots of blood on the front of her bodice from when she'd stabbed Caroline in the back.

"We need to change," Caroline said, dropping her voice, suddenly self-conscious. "And we have to go find Stefan, anyway." She scrolled up her contacts until she found Bonnie's name. She'd been holed up in the ladies' room for a few minutes, avoiding Matt's jock-talk with some of the other footballers, and so hadn't noticed her friends' absence yet.

Klaus rubbed his fingers into his eyes, a snarl low in his throat. Caroline thought that he was just frustrated with her lack of a full explanation, but when he removed his hands, his irises were gleaming yellow. He wasn't _that_ mad, was he?

"We should go check the woods," Damon suggested, indicating himself and Elena. Klaus cracked his knuckles.

No, Caroline realized, doing a bit of a double-take. His fingers were cracking and lengthening.

"Whoa, there," Damon cautioned. "Don't wolf out on us, now."

"I'm not doing anything," Klaus insisted, but his voice was a low, guttural growl, and his fangs were protruding from his mouth. Hair began to sprout along his hands, and his shoulders cracked out of place.

" _But just to be absolutely clear…"_ Silas's parting words rang through Caroline's mind, and a shiver flowed up her spine. She watched in horrified fascination as Klaus fell to his knees, and then flat on his belly as his legs started transitioning too, bones cracking, joints changing. He cried out, and grabbed at his shoulder, trying to force his arm back into human form.

"Silas got into his head before he left!" Caroline exclaimed, coming to her senses. She dropped to her knees and took Klaus's face in her hands. "Look at me, _look at me_!" She cried, eyes locking onto his. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Elena backing off quickly. Apparently her survival instincts hadn't abandoned her along with her emotions. Klaus squirmed quickly out of her grasp, writhing on the floor as his bones shattered. He'd forced his arm back human, but now his legs were changing.

"Silas is doing this," she insisted, gesturing frantically at Damon to follow Elena. "You've gotta get him out of your head, Klaus—focus on me!" Damon retreated as Klaus's legs transitioned completely, and his front claws started digging into the carpet. Caroline knew in the back of her mind that she should run, too—get him to follow her, at least, and leave the humans alone, but he'd broken free once before because of her, and she could tell he was fighting it with everything he had. His left leg flattened out, human again, but now his head was changing shape, transitioning into a wolf's.

"You can stop this," she insisted. "I know you can. You're a hybrid, and no one controls your transformations but you!"

He roared in pain, but the roar changed to a howl midway through.

And then a fully grown werewolf was standing there, in the middle of a banquet hall foyer, staring her down with huge golden eyes.

-0-

"Cinderella's returned from the ball," Elijah greeted his sister as she entered her house. He was lounging on the sofa in her living room, and had helped himself to a glass of blood.

"Hello, Elijah," she responded, a little tiredly, but sounding mostly pleased with herself.

"How did you fare?" Elijah asked. "I got your voicemail about Silas—and Niklaus. Is our brother well?"

"I'm not sure," Rebekah admitted, sitting down in an armchair near her older brother. "He was transforming into a werewolf when I left—I didn't particularly want to end up on the wrong end of his toxic hybrid teeth, and frankly it looked like Caroline had things handled." Elijah frowned, a little startled.

"Caroline?" he repeated. "She's a vampire—he could easily kill her." Rebekah was shaking her head.

"You know," she said softly, "I don't think he could."

-0-

It was quiet. So quiet that Caroline could hear her own heartbeat over the pulse of the music through the heavy double-doors. He was so close—close enough that he'd undoubtedly catch her if she tried to run. She'd been on the wrong end of a hybrid bite too many times to want to repeat the experience, and she felt like her own fear had pinned her in place, like a bug on a card.

But he wasn't attacking. He was just staring her down with terrifying intensity.

 _Alpha Stare_. She'd read about it when Tyler had first triggered the curse, and she'd been scrambling to learn everything she could about wolves. Alpha males stared down other members of their pack, demanding either submission, or challenge. She took a third of a second—plenty of time for a vampire—to take in the rest of his posture and expression. His tail was raised—dominant, but not attacking. His ears were more towards the sides; she knew that pulling them back was a really bad sign, flopping them forward was a sign of fear or submission, but she couldn't remember what out to the sides meant. Was is worry? But his muzzle was smooth and flat, and that she knew was good. Wrinkled back or snarling meant the wolf was going to attack.

Werewolves naturally hated and hunted vampires, but hybrids _were_ vampires, sort of, so they wouldn't have quite the same predisposition. Additionally, Klaus was turned before the blood feud started, so he wouldn't have been born with the instinct written into his genetic code like his modern relatives. Caroline breathed again—shallowly, but with a little less fear.

He wasn't attacking, but he wasn't jumping around wagging his tail either. She wasn't sure how much of his conscious mind he kept in this form, particularly when he wound up in it against his will, but at the very least he wasn't immediately treating her as a threat. Now came the real test of her research. How did one act "submissive?"

She couldn't move her ears around, but she dipped her head forward, dropping her eyes to the floor. She arched her back outwards a little bit, trying to give the impression of a tail pointed straight down. Hopefully, Silas hadn't given him any instructions about what to do once he was _in_ his wolf form…

Klaus padded forward, sniffing her thoughtfully. She was trembling, but tried to calm down. She knew wolves could smell fear, and she didn't want him to interpret it as aggression. His face loomed in her vision, and then she almost jumped out of her skin when his tongue flopped out and licked the wayward drop of blood from her cheek. He blinked a few times, and then sat back on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears up. He was confused, she thought. He must have "recognized" her in some way from the taste of her blood, but his brain was still in wolf-mode from his rough turn. At least he wasn't attacking her, though.

But now what was she supposed to do? She was all bloody, he was a wolf, Stefan was missing, Silas was on the loose, and there was a banquet hall full of people through a double-door ten yards to her right, who all probably smelled quite tasty to Klaus at the moment.

"What now?" she murmured.

-0-

"He really, truly loves her," Rebekah elaborated.

Elijah nodded. When he'd returned to Mystic Falls, determined to make both his brother and sister wait it out and simmer down before discussing the cure like rational adults, he was astonished to see the change that only a few months had wrought. True, Niklaus was still an impulsive, naturally irritable megalomaniac with serious violence issues, but when one has known and lived with someone for a thousand years, little shifts in their behavior tended to stand out.

Elijah had seen Klaus interacting with Caroline a great deal over the last few days, since, for reasons no one had yet disclosed to him, she was living at the mansion. Even though he knew that Klaus felt she was largely responsible for the delay with the cure debate—since, of course, Rebekah wasn't confiding in him that their older brother had been keeping _her_ waiting just as much—he'd seen his little brother show an unprecedented level of tenderness and restraint with her. He'd also seemed remarkably comfortable around her; he'd left off his charismatic, forbidding outer shell, and just been himself.

"So," Rebekah started again, after leaving him to his reverie for a minute or so. "Despite various supernatural complications, not the least of which was our own brother sprouting fur and a tail… I passed your test with flying colors."

She smiled up at him expectantly, and Elijah was hit with a slight—very slight—pang of regret. She'd have to wait a few more days thanks to his caution. But, then again, she'd waited nine-hundred years, so really it wasn't like she couldn't handle it. Perhaps he'd preempted, sending the cure off with Katerina for safekeeping when Niklaus had first described Silas's power...

Watching his sister's face fall into disappointment and then twist in rage in response to thoughts he hadn't spoken aloud was a very unsettling experience for the original vampire. He took a sip of blood and collected himself before speaking.

"I take it Rebekah is still at the prom," he surmised. The apparition of his sister gave him a wordless glare before vanishing from his sight completely. Apparently, he wasn't of much use to Silas—he'd told Katerina not to tell him where she was going.

-0-

Slowly, deliberately, Caroline stood up. Wolf-Klaus followed her movement with his eyes, but he didn't jump up and rip her throat out, which was a good sign. She looked around the space worriedly. The carpet was in shreds, and bits of Klaus's clothes were strewn across the floor. She located his phone, wallet and keys and stowed them in her purse along with her own. The whole time, he watched her thoughtfully. Luck was a lady for a few minutes, and no one came out to see the mess, but as she began contemplating how to convince him to get into a car and not destroy the seats, a side-door opened and Damon Salvatore's head peeked out warily.

Immediately, Klaus was snarling and snapping, tail pointed straight back, fur bristling. Fun fact, Caroline realized in the quarter-second that she had to notice _anything_ in that situation: hybrids in their wolf form didn't just have fangs—they had full muzzles of wickedly sharp teeth. Klaus was bearing his at Damon's head, and edging to the side, like he was beginning to circle his prey, and Damon, for his part, looked like he was sorting through his basic fight-or-flight options.

Jumping in front of an angry hybrid to save the guy who manipulated and abused her certainly hadn't been on Caroline's to-do list that night, and if she'd had more time to think about it, she had to admit to herself—to her shame—that she might not have done anything. But instinct took over, and she was kneeling at Klaus's side again, hand running gently through the fur on the back of his neck. It was surprisingly soft.

"Easy," she breathed, and his head swiveled to gaze full-on at her. "Damon's just a garden-variety dick, remember? Not even worth the calories you'd burn ripping him to pieces." She really, really hoped he could understand human speech. Tyler had told her that it was really garbled, and even if the wolf focused really hard, he or she could usually only make out one word in ten, on a good day. But, this was _Klaus_ , after all. Who even knew what the guy was capable of?

They stared each other down—again—and then he shook himself a little, blinking rapidly, and sat back down. His forehead creased. A frown—an actual, human frown. Then he looked back up at her, and his ears smoothed forward. He made a sound in his throat; a low, sad wine. Then he licked the blood off of her collarbone, and wined again. He was… worried about her?

Somewhere off to the side, Damon's head vanished and the door shut silently behind him. Caroline could only _hope_ and _pray_ that he would go and find Stefan so she could deal with the Klaus situation.

"Okay," she sighed, hands absentmindedly ruffling the fur on the sides of his neck, "Now we need to get you out of the public eye…"

-0-

It was around that time when Liz Forbes returned home after a long day at work, dropped her keys in the dish on the table in the entryway, and headed to the kitchen to hunt up some dinner. She was exhausted, she was hungry, and she had a horrid ache in her left hip.

The refrigerator motor hummed to life as she opened the door and the light flickered on. There was half a salad on the top shelf, some blueberry muffins, a package of bacon, half a carton of eggs… as she pushed around the contents, her eyes lit on a little plastic container, in which three vials of red liquid were propped upright. Over the summer, as she'd gotten used to Caroline being a vampire, her daughter had begun drawing bits of her blood and leaving them in the fridge, replacing them every so often and draining the old vials into the sink. She knew her mom had strong beliefs about vampires, but having a little heal-anything blood lying around when your job could potentially involve shoot-outs or fights with various supernatural beings never hurt anything.

She wasn't sure what had come over her, but the urge to grab a vial and drink it was suddenly so overpoweringly strong… Her hand closed around the cool glass tube, and she pushed the cork out with her thumb.

Vampire blood tasted a lot like human blood, not that Liz knew much about it, other than times when she'd bitten her lip or something. It was salty and metallic, and as soon as she's swallowed it, she shuddered in revulsion. How gross. Why had she done that? She wasn't even injured. Frowning, she grabbed some of last night's lasagna, and closed the refrigerator door.

"Hi," Damon greeted her, having appeared beside her without making a sound. She jumped a little, but it was less startling than it would have been if he hadn't spent the summer appearing and disappearing in classic vampire fashion.

"Damon," she responded, turning and putting the lasagna in the microwave and touching the "one minute" button. "I thought you were at prom with Elena."

"Yeah," Damon responded. "He is. Although things might be getting a little… _hairy_ , right about now." He flashed her a gleaming Damon-grin at his own inside joke.

Liz raised an eyebrow.

Her eyebrow was still raised when Not-Damon reached out, quick as thought, and snapped her neck.

She crumpled to the ground, the empty tube from Caroline's blood rolling under the refrigerator, and clinking gently against the wall behind as it came to a stop.

"And that's step two," Silas murmured, shifting back into his true form and looking thoughtfully down at the newly-transitioning vampire. Step three, he knew from Liz's thoughts when he'd made her drink Caroline's blood, was in a mini-fridge in her daughter's bedroom. They wouldn't need that for a little while yet, though. He sauntered over to the kitchen table, upended a chair, and snapped off one of the legs, rolling it experimentally between his fingers. They'd have plenty of time alone, too; the irritating blonde would be so busy dealing with the angry werewolf that she'd never think to come home that night.

The best thing about love as a manipulator, he thought as he returned to the refrigerator, hoisted Liz's body onto his shoulder, and carried her to the living room couch, was the lengths that people would go to, to reunite with a lost loved one.

The microwave beeped and shut off, and Silas pursed his lips thoughtfully. Then with a shrug, he fetched the steaming bowl and located a fork. He didn't need human food, of course, but the spices smelled good, and it was a shame to let it go to waste. It wasn't like the one who made it would ever have the chance to eat it.

The two-thousand-year-old immortal sat down on the coffee table, set the stake beside him, perched to bowl on his knee, and plunged the fork into the noodles while he waited with practiced patience for his leverage to wake up.


	17. Tea and Sympathy

"There's my favorite wolf-whisperer," Damon Salvatore greeted Caroline conversationally as she answered her phone with a slightly frantic, "Did you find him?"

"Cut the banter, Damon," she snapped tiredly, leaning back into the cool leather of Klaus's couch. "Did you find Stefan or not?"

"We found him," Damon assured her. "He was locked in the basement the whole time. He's hungry, dirty and broody, but alive and otherwise well."

"Thank god," Caroline breathed, resting her head on her hand. She needed some good news after the last hour. Upstairs, she heard bones cracking, and the sound of a man groaning in pain. It had been a wolf's howl ten minutes ago, but before that he'd screamed with a human voice for a while, so she wasn't getting her hopes up too much.

"How's Fluffy?" Damon asked flippantly. "I trust you got him out without any casualties? Did he bite you? Or just wag his tail and go to sleep with his big puppy head on your lap?"

"I'm happy to let him know you care," Caroline assured him smoothly. "I'll tell him you said that." There was silence on the other end for a moment, and it was like she could almost hear him grimace, think about the risk he'd incurred, and then shrug it off. He did tend to like to live large.

"Just thought I'd give you the good news," he said. Then his voice quieted, like he wasn't holding the phone as close to his face. "Wait, Elena, where are you going?"

"I'm hungry," came the faint reply.

"So get a blood bag out of the freezer!" Damon exclaimed, and then the line went dead as he hung up to deal with his girlfriend drama. Caroline shook her head and set her phone on the table. Klaus roared again, and the cracking sounds got louder, and lower. Thicker bones—his legs, most likely. One would think that it would have become background noise by now, but Caroline's whole body ached with sympathy pains for him.

She knew what was wrong. He hadn't waited long enough—hadn't let his body recover from the aftershocks of the first transformation. Tyler had been like that, in the early days. He'd start transforming, fight it, but then he couldn't stop in the middle without destroying his internal organs, so his bones would break again so he could go back to being human. But the moon wouldn't be denied, so a few minutes later, the process would start again. He'd said that one of the most important things anyone needed to know about turning was, " _Whatever you do, DON'T TRY TO STOP._ " Klaus was a very old vampire, but he was a very young and inexperienced werewolf, when you got right down to it.

She heard him cry out again, and her stomach clenched. She knew he'd stayed in his wolf form for at least a day the first time, and he'd been so euphoric about finally breaking the curse that it wouldn't have been nearly as painful—and he wouldn't have tried to stop in the middle. But now, since he'd turned against his will for the first time in a millennia, he was making the worst newbie werewolf mistake in the book. And every second of listening to his pain was agony for her.

When they'd first gotten home, he'd run into his bedroom and knocked the door shut with his tail before she could follow.

"I don't speak much wolf," she'd called through the wood, "but I'm guessing this means, 'keep out—I'm about to get naked.'" He'd made a sound that almost resembled a dry chuckle, and she'd headed off to her room to take a much-needed shower. However, twenty minutes later, once she'd washed off all the blood and changed into a tee-shirt and jeans, he was still trying to turn back. She'd been able to hear him, the whole time she was in the shower, breaking his bones and howling in pain, sometimes in a man's voice, and sometimes in a wolf's. But once she'd turned off the water and the fan, the details were excruciatingly clear, even through two doors and down a long hallway.

She'd waited a few minutes, and then when there had been a lull in the horrible sounds, she'd knocked on his door, calling his name softly.

"Go away," he'd yelled raspily, panting, trying to catch his breath. Apparently, she'd been too optimistic, thinking it might've been over. She'd wrapped her hand around the door handle anyway, but as soon as she'd turned it a fraction, he'd snarled, " _Leave, or I'll make you leave!"_ and then all she'd heard was angry growling and snapping—he had a wolf's head again, then.

She knew that during transition, a werewolf was at his weakest, so that was probably why he didn't want her in there. That, or it was pride, since watching a man turn partly into an animal and then back again wasn't exactly the most attractive sight in the world. The fact that Tyler had let her be present for his early transformations was an enormous expression of trust in her. Well, to be fair, he'd also been scared and desperate. It wasn't like moral support was a _necessary_ component of healthy transformation.

Still, it was brutal to listen to. She knew Klaus had to have a high pain threshold—he was only a billion years old and indestructible. And he was a proud person, so he'd be trying not to make too much noise when someone was there to hear him. So the fact that he was crying out during this meant that he was in truly intense agony.

She covered her ears, trying to block out another round of shrieking. She couldn't stay and listen to this—not when he wouldn't let her do anything to help him—but she didn't want to just _leave_ either… She shivered. Vampires didn't get cold, but sometimes their emotions would simulate a similar feeling. Instinctively, she grabbed Klaus's hoodie—abandoned on the back of the couch—and pulled it over her tee-shirt. It felt good, and smelled like him. Since she knew the staff was all gone for the night, she felt perfectly at ease burying her face in the material and inhaling deeply. She took a minute or so, just to sit there like a child wrapped up in a security blanket.

Then she stood bolt upright, and slapped the palms of her hands against her face to wake herself up.

' _Quit sitting around feeling sorry for yourself,_ ' she thought roughly. _'You are_ Caroline Forbes, _and you do not mope and brood—you take_ action _. If he won't let you help him the way_ you _want too, then find another way._ Think _, Caroline.'_

She knew that Klaus had a cabinet of witch-ey stuff in his study, and she rooted through it, pulling out herbs one by one and piling them on his desk. Last June, she and Tyler had taken a trip out to Illinois to see a witch who attended NIU—Sophie Dalmira. Sophie's roommate and best friend, Nia, was a werewolf, and Caroline had learned through the Bonnie-witch-ey-grapevine that she'd invented an herbal remedy to cure the after-effects of werewolf transition.

They'd managed to get the recipe from her, although Tyler had had to do the majority of the talking, because every time Caroline had opened her mouth, Sophie had given her a weird look, and addressed her response to the werewolf. Clearly she didn't like vampires any more than the average witch. Oddly enough, Nia didn't seem to mind her at all, but maybe the modern werewolf was less judgmental than the modern witch…

Caroline had tweaked the recipe a little bit at a time over the summer, and then re-wrote it completely when Klaus had returned to town and turned Tyler into a hybrid. But her changes were definitely improvements, according to Tyler himself and half of Klaus's hybrids after their un-siring. She gathered up the herbs and took them to the kitchen.

Milk was the base of the original version—it had a grounding effect, and helped the body to return to its human roots and stay there. For a hybrid, she used two parts blood to one part milk. She thought that combination in and of itself was horribly gross, but even Kim—who did _not_ know who had made the stuff—had sworn it tasted great when her body needed it. While the liquids heated up slowly in a pan on the stove—not unlike the process of warming milk for a baby—Caroline crushed up the herbs—lavender, chamomile, rosemary, frankincense, clove, fennel, cinnamon, vetiver and black pepper—and mixed in a tablespoon of sugar to the tea powder. The original version included vervain, to speed up circulation and get the mixture into the werewolf's blood faster. Obviously that would be counterproductive for a hybrid, so she'd substituted the sugar and a shot of strong alcohol, the latter of which she found in Klaus's liquor cabinet. Luckily hybrids couldn't get diabetes…

By the time the mixture had combined, Klaus had stopped yelling, and she hadn't heard a bone crack in several minutes. She turned off the heat and hunted around in the cabinets for a big mug, while above her a 160-pound, _hopefully_ human figure dragged himself across the floor, breathing hard, and collapsed onto his bed.

-0-

Klaus's entire body ached, and he felt as weak and limp as a fish out of water. He was drenched in sweat, stark naked, and wasn't entirely sure all of his joints were fitting together correctly, but at least he was back on two legs. He hadn't expected this at all. Last time had hurt, yes, but it was nothing like this. He'd probably just had such a massive endorphin rush from _finally_ breaking the curse that his pain had been dulled down to almost nothing. Turning against his will wasn't something he'd had to deal with in a thousand years—he'd forgotten how dreadful it was; skipped over the painful reality in his obsession to unlock the repressed part of himself.

A quiet knock came at his door. He didn't want to be seen like this, but even as he groaned for whoever it was to go away, he grasped at the coverlet and pulled it over his lower half. He knew it was Caroline on the other side, and he knew she would probably come in anyway. The first time she saw him naked was _not_ going to be in this pathetic state…

"I'm coming in," she called softly. He smirked. Of course he'd guessed right. The door swung inward, and she entered, carrying a mug of something with steam rising from the top.

"How do you feel?" she asked, approaching the bed. He hauled himself up so he could sit propped against the pillows. "Sorry," she added ruefully. "Stupid question. Here." She held out the mug.

Klaus reached out and took it from her, frowning as he did so. Heating up blood to drink was not uncommon, but what had she tried to do, boil it? But when he reflexively bent his elbow, bringing the mug within smelling distance, his fangs elongated without his consent, and he found himself gulping down the contents greedily. The flavor was indescribably strange, but the effect was immediate. Blissful relief poured down his throat, and then radiated outwards from his stomach, relaxing his muscles and numbing his bones. It was like the pain was draining out of him, and he'd finished half of whatever it was before he even knew he was doing it.

"What is this stuff?" he asked, coming up for air at last and looking at the strangely opaque red liquid with curiosity and wonder.

"Blood, milk, herbs, whiskey and sugar," she responded with a little proud smile. "Learned to make it from a witch in Illinois last summer. Although, this is my version." He looked at her quizzically. "I modified it to be effective for hybrids," she added with a shrug. He nodded, and drank another few gulps. He was still sore, but the improvement was incredible. For once, he was actually a little bit _glad_ she'd dated Tyler Lockwood… Well, perhaps that was a stretch. He resented the fact _slightly_ less.

"What do you remember?" she asked. He thought about it, running through his memories of them dancing, lingering a little on the feeling of her pressed up against him. But he was fairly certain that wasn't what she'd meant.

"You ran off to talk to Stefan, who started flirting with you," he responded. "I stepped in, you accused him of not being Stefan, and then you were on the floor bleeding." Immediately, his eyes roved over her, searching for any sign that she was still hurt. He knew it was silly—she was a vampire, and would've healed by now. But he couldn't shake the awful fear that had gripped him when he'd first realized that Silas was in such close quarters with her. What if he'd killed her? The tea left in his mug began to slosh a little as his hand shook, and he rested the bottom of the cup on his knee to hide it. She was showered, refreshed, looked perfectly healthy, and…

"Is there any particular reason you're wearing my shirt?" he asked, a smile curving up his lips. She looked down at herself quickly—apparently she'd forgotten all about the hoodie.

"Oh! It was… on the sofa," she started, with the air of one searching for a non-embarrassing explanation to an incredibly embarrassing situation. Her hands had already moved to the zipper, and she was about to remove the incriminating article of outerwear, but he put his free hand on top of hers, stopping her.

"I didn't say I minded," he added in a teasing voice. She held eye-contact for a minute, then blushed all the way to her ears.

"Just… finish your tea," she snapped, looking away. Klaus obligingly took another gulp, but his eyes never left her, and he never quite stopped smirking. He liked that image—her wearing his clothes. He liked it a great deal.

"I remember turning," he continued, setting the empty mug on his bedside table. "I remember you being there, but it's quite hazy, just a lot of colors. Red, white, black, blonde…" She twisted a curl of her hair around her finger as he stated "blonde" as a color. "Then I was in here, turning back," he finished, gesturing at the room around them. "What happened? And what did Silas want?"

"Apparently, he can't get into my head for some reason, and was there to threaten me into staying out of his way," Caroline admitted with a sigh, running her hand through her hair. She'd been so worried about Klaus since they'd left the prom that she'd barely had any emotional space left to spare on her other immortal problem. But now it was starting to hit her—she was an obstacle for one of the most powerful beings in history. He might have been keeping her alive for the moment out of curiosity, but what would happen to her when he figured out whatever was special about her brain? What if he decided she was in the way; that figuring out one random anomaly wasn't worth the effort? What if he hurt the people she loved to get to her? His plans couldn't all depend on werewolf temperaments—the guy meant business, and she'd just made the top of his hit list.

Klaus's warm hand on her shoulder was her first indication that she'd been trembling. She looked up at him, and his eyes were searching her face in concern. She knew she was probably very pale. She tried to force a smile, laugh it off, make some comment about how he wasn't the first immortal weirdo to take an unhealthy interest in her, but before she could speak, the hybrid had drawn her gently into his arms, and was cradling her against his chest.

"It's all right, love," he murmured soothingly. "We're going to find a way to take him down—he won't get the chance to hurt you again." She nodded, giving up on putting up a bold front and leaning into his comforting embrace. She was still shaking, but managed to stop herself from tearing up, which was a step in the right direction.

' _Quite a pair we make,_ ' she thought. He, physically exhausted, she mentally, and each trying to heal the other.

"This fellow's been obsessing about reuniting with his one true love for two millennia," Klaus mused, stroking Caroline's hair softly. "He'll have contingency plans for his contingency plans; we'll need to come up with something unorthodox—something he can't see coming."

"Which will be difficult, since he can read our minds," Caroline added quietly. But that alone was giving her the ghost of an idea. Silas clearly relied heavily on his mentalism—so anyone who was compelled to do something without thinking about it could easily get in close. But get in close and do what?

"Except yours, it seems," Klaus reminded her. "Any idea why that might be? Wait, stop," he added quickly. "If ignorance of your secret is the reason he's not killing you, it's best you don't let me keep it in my unfortunately accessible head."

"Even if I _could_ tell you," Caroline admitted, "I wouldn't know what to say. I'm not even sure he _can't_ get into my head; I mean, he still makes me see Stefan when he's around. I guess I somehow got stuck on just one illusion. If that's even possible…" But if he really _couldn't_ get into her head, then that opened up fabulous opportunities. She could make plans, write the others letters with confusing instructions; what was that movie called again, where the guy did that because they were being stalked by someone who could see the future?

"He's looking for the cure, yet," Klaus continued thoughtfully after Caroline had been silent for a long moment. "He wants to take it once the veil to the Other Side is dropped, but once he takes it, he'll be mortal, and we can kill him with ease. The trick is to get it into him without opening up the gates of hell first."

"Yeah," Caroline agreed sadly. "That's probably our best bet." She hated that she had to deny Elena her shot at humanity, but the alternative was exponentially worse.

"Unless you have a better idea," Klaus added, noticing her regretful tone. She'd gotten over her few minutes of panic, so she sat up, and he released her.

"No," she admitted. "It just sucks—about Elena, you know?" Klaus nodded.

"Yes," he said, but with more of a remembering tone than an agreeing one. "For the love of Elena." She rolled her eyes a little. She knew he teased the Salvatore brothers about the way they'd do anything for the girl they loved, but Elena was her best friend—her sister. Surely he got that she wanted the best for her.

"You don't want it for yourself, at all?" he asked, eyeing her thoughtfully. There was no sarcasm in his voice, no conniving, just genuine curiosity. She shook her head.

"Not even a little bit," she responded. "Becoming a vampire is the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't go back for anything." He nodded, and it took her a moment to read what she saw in his face. He clearly wasn't surprised, but was that disappointment behind his eyes—regret? Even a little hurt? Why would he—

With all the prom-drama and humanity-switch-drama and immortal-beings-on-the-warpath-drama, Caroline had somehow _completely forgotten_ about another situation involving immortality cures and someone who had desperately—and futilely—wanted one thing since the Stone Age. The elephant had crept into the room, gotten behind her, and was now trumpeting loudly in her ear. Klaus had been willing to give up the cure to save her life, and now here she was saying that she wouldn't have wanted it. Oh, hell, how had she gotten herself into this conversation, and how could she get herself out in sixty seconds or less?

-0-

"Unless, you know," Caroline was backpedaling suddenly, "If it was an emergency." Klaus stared at her quizzically, wondering what had brought on this odd of a reaction. "Like a life-and-death situation or something," she continued, "in which case of course I'd be grateful—obviously."

His irritation from a few moments ago was getting worse, from her sudden flood of words, not better. He tried to shove it down—he'd known that if he cured her, she'd naturally have a great many emotions on the subject, and few of them good ones. He'd been prepared for a negative reaction—or so he thought.

But why was she going on like this? If he didn't know for certain that no one but himself had been privy to the cure plan, he'd have thought someone told her about it after she came around. But he'd been cautious, and hadn't told anyone, unless one counted when he'd said it to her while she was unconscious.

"I'm just saying, all things being equal, I wouldn't just take the thing of my own free will," she was saying, but Klaus reached out and put his hand on her forearm to stop her.

"Caroline," he said seriously. "If something's bothering you, just say it."

"Nothing," she responded innocently. "Nothing's bothering me. Why?"

"Then _what_ are you talking about?" he pressed quietly. She looked up at him for a moment, searchingly. Her heart was pounding at a phenomenal rate—what exactly had he stumbled across? She swallowed once, and dropped her eyes to her hands.

"I heard you," she admitted, barely speaking above a whisper. Well, _that_ was illuminating, he thought crossly. Someday he'd have to get Rebekah to write a male-to-female, female-to-male dictionary. She could make a killing off of it.

"When I was comatose," Caroline continued, pressing her fingers together in her lap to give her eyes something to look at, "I could sometimes hear what the people around me were saying."

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense. On the one hand, Klaus felt glad that she had indeed derived some comfort from the presence of her loved ones. But on the other, what exactly had she heard?

"It was… really hard, to stay alive like that," she explained. "It was like I was hanging over the edge of a cliff, and the only thing between me and dying was my own strength of will. And I was tired. _So_ tired." Her voice caught. She was tearing up, remembering the experience. Instinctively, Klaus ran his hand from where it rested on her arm down to where he could wrap her hand in his. She swallowed again, and continued.

"I stuck around because everyone was so worried about me, and I didn't want to hurt my friends, my mom… But Meredith was right." She looked up at him then, and he got a horrible chill down his spine before she even elaborated on the part he already knew. "I wasn't going to make it."

Too many times, Klaus had had to look right down the path the future might hold if she wasn't in it. He carefully did not focus on it—did not allow his conscious mind to bring up feelings or images. But even behind the walls he summoned for himself, the thought of her death felt like a rusty knife twisting through his heart. When she ran her thumb gently across the back of his hand, he realized he'd begun to squeeze hers.

"I was waiting for my mom," she recalled, dropping her eyes again to look at their interlocked hands. "I wanted to hear her one more time. Then, I was going to let go. I knew I was just prolonging things—I didn't have the strength to wake myself back up, and it… it _hurt_."

A shadow passed across her face as she said that, and she moved on quickly, clearly avoiding the memories.

"I was going to try and hold on until the next time my mom came to see me, but I was fading fast, and I wasn't really sure if I'd last that long. But then… I heard you." She snuck a glance back up at him, and he held her eyes with his own. Now his heart was starting to pound a little faster, a little harder.

"I knew there was only one cure. I heard Shane say it, and that it might fix me. But, well…" her voice took on a bitter edge. "How did it go? 'For love of Elena?'" She shook her head, like she was willing herself not to get upset about it. "We've been best friends our whole lives, and I love her, but when things get rough, and other people have to make a choice between us…" she shook her head again, and rubbed the fingers of her free hand across her eyes. She breathed deeply once, steadying herself. Then she sat up a little straighter.

"I cannot possibly describe how much it meant to me, that you'd put me first," she said, quietly but clearly. Now it was _her_ gaze that had trapped his. He could feel her pulse racing. "I knew you wanted the cure to make more hybrids, and that you'd wanted that for so many lifetimes. I can't even imagine living that long, with one dream, and the one thing that can make that dream come true. And as I was slipping away, with… I don't know, _minutes_ left on the clock, I _heard_ you say that you were going to give it to me.

No one has ever offered to do something like that for me before. Not when they have everything to lose and nothing to gain. And that's why I came back. I dragged myself off the edge of death, for you, because there was no way I was going to let you down. Not after that."

"Who says I had nothing to gain?" he murmured, cupping her face gently in his free hand. "I had everything to gain, Caroline." She looked at him, not quite comprehending. "You, alive," he explained simply. She was silent for a moment, letting that sink in.

"You're right," he continued. "I did dream of creating other hybrids, my entire life. And yes, I would have done—and, did do—anything and everything I had too in order to make it happen. But the important part, the part you didn't understand, isn't the 'what,' but the 'why.' For a thousand years, no matter who was close to me, I felt… isolated. Different. I wanted others like me—people who understood me, who could see past the façade that, truth be told, I no longer know how to remove.

And then there you were," he added with a little, wondering laugh. "Walking through my house at my mother's ball, tearing through a thousand years' worth of bravado and walls in the course of one evening. And you weren't afraid." Now he was the one tearing up, and his voice sounded dry and strange. "You just said what you thought, with no concern about the consequences. You acted like I was just… _normal_. Granted," he added, a little sternly, "you were _quite_ rude about it." Caroline laughed a little, remembering. "You didn't seem to like me particularly—something to do with my repeated attempts to kill you and your friends, I imagine." She nodded ruefully.

"A thousand years, I've chased after one thing. One thing that I thought would make me happy, would make me feel… complete. Accepted." He shook his head, thinking about that. "A few months around you, sarcastic commentary, betrayal, constant rejection and all—" Caroline rolled her eyes as he listed her faults, but she did look a little sheepish. "And before I knew it, I realized my dream had… changed. You had become a vital part of my life. I really have no idea how I got through a thousand years of living in this world before you were born into it. So, you see," he finished softly. "I had nothing to lose. And everything," he squeezed her hand, and leaned in closer, eyes burning into hers. " _Everything_ to gain."

He'd claimed he didn't know how to take down his façade, but it was like the curtains had been pulled back, and his very soul had just glowed through his skin, and lay exposed for her to see. He hadn't intended to say so much aloud, but it was in his nature to be honest about his feelings. He wasn't some shy seventeen-year-old. He knew what he wanted, and with what he knew of Caroline and how things usually played out between her and her friends, he wanted her to know, in no uncertain terms, that _she_ was wanted.

Her eyes were fixed on him, like she was trying to find any trace of deception, any hint of ulterior motive.

Then her lips were on his, her hands tangling into his hair.

Since the day she'd kissed him in Tyler's body, he'd fantasized about what it would be like to do that with his own lips. Even his excellent memory and vivid imagination hadn't done it justice—not by a long shot. She'd released his hand, and he pressed it against her back, holding her close to him. His other hand had slid to the back of her head. For twelve perfect seconds, his whole world was her smell, the feel of her skin, her hair, her lips, the sound of her breathing, and the tiny moan she'd released from the back of her throat that made him certain that she'd been hungering for this nearly as desperately as he had.

Then Caroline's phone rang.

They both paused, still locked together, and then she groaned and pulled away, rolling her eyes and digging for her phone.

"That's gotta be," she began, and then looked at the caller-ID and nodded in confirmation. "My mom," she finished. She hadn't even realized it was one in the morning—an hour after she'd said she'd call to say if she was going to the after party or not. When your mom was the Sheriff, even when you weren't technically living with her, you updated her after school events…

"Sorry," she said, looking over at Klaus, regret etched across her features. "She has no idea about any of the stuff that's been going on today…" He shook his head and gestured at her phone, a gentlemanly smile playing across his mouth.

"Mom," Caroline greeted her mother, "I'm so sorry—there's been a lot going on and I totally lost track of time." She'd meant Silas, but she happened to glance at Klaus when she spoke, and immediately her face darkened to a deep red. She glanced away quickly, smiling.

"Well, what happened?" her mother asked, sounding concerned. "I just talked to Damon on the phone, and he told me that Klaus turned in the middle of the prom. What's going on?" Caroline's embarrassed smile twisted into a grimace. She didn't have to look at Klaus to know that his face was doing the same. Damon Salvatore had officially become public enemy number one for this…

"He didn't," Caroline explained quickly. "I mean, he _did_ , but not in the middle of prom. No one saw. And it was actually Silas making him…" she floundered. There was an awful lot to explain from the course of one more-disastrous-than-usual Mystic Fall high school dance…

"Wait, what?" her mom was asking. "Silas was there?"

"Yeah," Caroline began, but her mom cut her off.

"Honey, could you please come home tonight and give me the whole story?" she asked, sounding tired and worried and exasperated. "I've got rumors coming in both ears, and I can't do a thing to protect the people of this town if I don't even know what the dangers are."

Caroline and Klaus exchanged regretful looks.

"Sure, mom," Caroline responded after a pause too short for a human to notice. "I'll be there in a little bit." Her mother really, really needed to know about what was going on. Sheriff's duties aside, she couldn't protect _herself_ if she didn't know what the dangers were.

"Thanks, honey," Liz said. "I'll see you soon." Then she disconnected. Caroline locked her phone and stuck it back in the pocket of her—well, _Klaus's_ —hoodie.

"Sorry," she said again, ruefully. He nodded.

"I understand." Their eyes met for a second, and then she was in his arms again, kissing him one more time.

"If you don't go now," he murmured after a long, glorious moment, "I don't think I'll let you…" He could actually feel her smiling as his lips returned to hers.

"Good point," she responded, and after one last gentle kiss, pulled away and stood up, smoothing her hair back into place.

Klaus watched her leave, his mind a fantastic turmoil. It upset him that she'd had to go, but there would be other nights. That was the best part about immortality, he reflected, leaning back against the pillows. They had a potentially infinite number of chances. And as soon as this Silas problem was dealt with, their distractions would evaporate. Although he'd known—or at least suspected—for some time that she had feelings for him, it was staggering to have it confirmed with so little room for doubt. He couldn't describe it, although the closest description he could find was that he'd come to life after being dead for a thousand years.

Exhausted by his evening and relaxed by his girl, he rolled onto his side and quickly fell asleep, wondering with wry amusement what the local Sherriff was going to think of her daughter turning up home wearing his shirt.

-0-

"Why did I just call Caroline?" Liz sat on the couch, a nearly empty glass of blood from Caroline's supply in her hand. She wasn't afraid, or confused, or wary—just curious.

Silas had repressed her more annoying emotional levels as soon as she woke up.

"Because," he explained smoothly, "I need her help, and to get it, I have to make her want the same thing I do.

And for that, she needs a loved one on the Other Side."


	18. Fractal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: chapter is depressing AF.

3:07am

Cool spring air brushed lightly across Caroline's bare arms. She'd left Klaus's hoodie draped across her sofa, and now, as she stood in the middle of the road, dead in the center of Wickery Bridge, she wore only her tee-shirt and jeans. Her shoes and socks—anything that might make a scuff mark or leave a piece of thread behind to alert investigators of her presence here—were also at home. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun—she didn't want to chance that even a strand would fall out and expose her. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, but she knew she had to get ahold of herself and do this before another car came along.

In her right hand, she held her mother's personal handgun, loaded and un-safetied.

She raised her eyes from the pavement, and looked at the police cruiser parked in front of her. Even in the three-a.m. gloom, her vampire eyes could pick out her mother's face above the steering wheel.

Then she raised the gun.

1:43am

When Caroline arrived at home, her purse swinging from one of her hands while she fumbled with her key in the other, she was surprised that she didn't hear her mom's heartbeat. They'd only talked thirty minutes ago—why would she have gone out so suddenly? She'd left the light on in the living room, too… Weird. Caroline stuffed her keys back into her purse, set it down on the table in the hallway, and then pulled out her phone and sent her mom a text.

To her surprise, her mom's phone dinged from the direction of the living room. She'd left it at home, apparently. It was unlike the Sherriff to be so absent-minded, she thought, until she noticed her mom's keys in the bowl on the table. Frowning, Caroline walked into the living room, rounded the couch—and froze.

There she lay, spread-eagled on the carpet, eyes wide and staring at nothing, phone a few inches from her limp hand. Her skin was grey, with protruding veins running across it.

There was a stake through her heart.

Caroline approached the body slowly, cautiously. She knew what she was seeing—her dead vampire mother. But, her mom wasn't dead, and she certainly wasn't a vampire. So… why was she seeing it, then?

She knelt, wondering when she'd wake up from this horrible dream, and reached out a hand to touch her mother's face. The skin was rough, cold and hard. Caroline had been around enough vampire corpses to be familiar with the sensation.

"Mom?" she called, as if she expected her to simply wake up. She wrapped a hand around the stake—one of the legs from their kitchen chairs—and yanked it out. "Mom?" she called again, a little louder. "Mom, wake up!"

She bit into her wrist and pressed it against her mother's mouth, even as the more logical part of her mind tried to tell her that it was a futile gesture. If a vampire wasn't healing from something, blood from another vampire didn't usually help.

"Come on, mom," she urged as the wounds to her skin closed and a drop of blood ran down her mother's cheek, disappearing into her hair. "You need to drink. Come on, please wake up."

Reality was starting to set in, and she shivered in panic.

"MOM!" she screamed, shaking her. "Mom, please, open your eyes! Please… Just wake up… I promise, I'm going to get you out of this town, and find you a nice man… you have to see me graduate!

Mommy?"

Everything was silent, as the last word, spoken in a tiny, child-like voice, hung in the air. It was like Caroline's heart had even stopped beating, waiting for something—anything—to contradict what she was seeing.

Nothing did.

"No…" Caroline slumped forward, hands fisting into her mom's uniform shirt, tears pouring down her face. How could this happen? Who would do this? Who would turn her mom, only to kill her? A human wouldn't have killed her, a vampire wouldn't have turned her… It didn't make sense. But there it was—frighteningly real, horribly unchangeable.

"Help," she tried to scream, but her sobs choked off the sound almost entirely. What was she supposed to do? A murder had been committed in her house. She had to do something, call someone, but what, and who? Her mom was the one who was supposed to know these things—she was the police! But this was a vampire-slaying; she couldn't just call 911! She wasn't even sure she could find the numbers on the phone—she was weeping so hard she couldn't see.

Vampirism meant freezing a person in time. As a vampire, Caroline had been living the same moment in her life over and over again for almost a year, and had learned not to let it bother her. But now, here she was, frozen in a moment where her mother lay dead and desiccating on the living room floor. How was she supposed to move forward? How was she supposed to stand up, to speak to anyone, to do anything, when she was stuck in this one, horrific moment in time? She would never grow up, move past this, move on… For every last day of eternity, she was going to be a grieving seventeen-year-old girl who had lost her entire family.

She wasn't sure how long she knelt there, sobbing hysterically over her mother's corpse. An hour, maybe more. The feeling that it was incredibly important that she do something about this never went away, but there was nothing she _could_ do, so she didn't move from that spot until she'd cried out every tear her body could make, and then sat there, arms wrapped around her stomach, trying and failing to catch her breath.

Eventually, her mind caught up with her emotions. When council members turned up as dead vampires, they tended to wind up in unmarked graves on the side of the road. If the deputies found her mother like this, they would never believe that she hadn't been a vampire to begin with. She might even take the fall for letting Damon's escapades slide so many times.

That was completely unacceptable.

She couldn't really do anything for her now, but what she could do was make sure that the town honored her as she deserved.

But how to hide vampirism in a… in a corpse?

She'd found Vicki's body, back before she knew about any of this. Damon had said later that the dampness in the soil where he buried her had caused some decay, masking the other physical changes that the police and council would associate with vampirism. She needed to do something to hide the cause of death, and something else to hide the skin condition. Something to do with water. Something that would leave a hole in her chest, larger than the one left by the stake. Just the prospect brought on another round of crying—apparently, she had more tears left after all.

After several minutes, she pulled herself together. As if she were lifting a small, injured child, she gently picked up her mother's body and carried her out to the police cruiser. She set her carefully in the passenger seat, and then quickly returned to the house.

Her mom had owned some firearms of her own, besides the ones issued by the department. She kept them in a safe upstairs, and Caroline quickly opened the thing, found a small handgun, and loaded it with shaking fingers. She closed the safe and headed outside, grabbing her mom's keys from the dish as she left.

The drive to Wickery Bridge was quiet and uneventful. Caroline felt like the right side of her body—the side closer to her mom's corpse—was several degrees colder than her left side, and that was unsettling, to say the least. When they arrived, the bridge was dark, deserted. After the Gilberts' car went off the side, it had hardly been a popular route, even after it was rebuilt.

Caroline put the car in park, but left it running as she unbuckled her seat belt and carefully moved her mom to the driver's seat. She buckled her in, set her foot on the gas pedal, and molded her hands around the steering wheel as best she could. Then she walked several paces in front of the car, and turned to look into the headlights.

She shivered, and wished she hadn't left Klaus's hoodie at home. But that was silly—she wasn't shivering from cold.

As she raised the gun, another wave of crying assailed her, and she had to stop for a minute and get ahold of herself. She could do this. She had to do this. She raised the gun again and pulled the trigger. The kickback jerked her hand into the air, and the bullet sliced a round hole in the top of the windshield. She hadn't aimed. She need to aim this time.

Steadying her right hand with her left, she looked along the top of the firearm, right at her mother. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. She couldn't do this. But if she didn't…

"I'm sorry, mom," she choked out.

Then she pulled the trigger again. And again. And again. She fired until the gun was empty, and kept going, listening to the empty clicks several times before she let it fall to her side.

She took several minutes longer than was strictly safe, there on a public road holding a smoking gun, to compose herself. Then she ran back to the car.

She'd aimed right this time. There were holes and cracks in the windshield, and the wound in her mother's chest was now a ragged mass of blood from multiple gunshot wounds and broken glass.

Caroline stuffed the gun into the back of her pants, and gripped the frame of the car as she put it in drive. She kissed her mom's face, her forehead, her hand, which had fallen into her lap. Then she closed the door, flitted behind the car as vampire speed, and pushed it through the guardrail and into the river below.

The splash was massive, and she wondered if people back in town could have heard it. She stood there, shock reverberating through her system at what she'd just done. Then she ran back to where she'd shot from, and collected every single fallen shell.

Sheriff Forbes had been killed in the line of duty on a Sunday morning at 3:18am. Her daughter walked barefoot back to the house, wiped her fingerprints off of her mother's gun, and returned it to the safe, along with the shells.

Now all she had to do was pretend she didn't know anything about anything until someone found the body.

Pretend she didn't know?

Only two hours ago, she'd kissed Klaus for the first time. She felt like it had occurred sometime last week, or maybe before that, or maybe even in a dream born of alcohol and blood and laughter and sunlight. What was she like, before _this_ happened? How should she act? Even now, she only had vague impressions of what it felt like to know that her mom was alive and well and asleep in her own bed.

Thoughts of what she'd just done began to assail her mind like a swarm of angry bees, and she stumbled into the bathroom, stripping off her clothes frantically as she went. She'd shot her mother's corpse. She'd driven her off a bridge. Dead body. Her mother's dead body. She'd carried her to the car. A corpse. Graying skin. Dry, stiff, dead.

She tumbled into the shower and turned the water on with shaking hands, scrubbing at her skin before the stream even touched it. Get it off, get it off, get the feeling of death off her skin, off her hands, out of her hair.

In a few seconds she was thoroughly drenched, but the water was so hot—boiling, even—and her skin was burning.

Vervain.

Gasping in pain, she fumbled for the knob to shut off the acidic water. Her hand slipped off of it twice before she was able to grip and turn it. She crouched in the tub, breathing hard, watching her skin heal and shivering from the sudden contrasting cold. She couldn't even take a shower in her own house.

The tears came again, and she sat on the side of the bathtub, naked and bedraggled, sobbing without pause.

She passed the night there, not moving, alternately crying and sitting silently, face whiter than the tiles on the bathroom walls, hardly breathing, like she was trying to will herself out of existence. Occasionally, the thought of going to bed ran through her head; sitting on porcelain with the shower curtain hanging against her back wasn't the most comfortable position in which to spend a great deal of time. She could have even climbed out of the tub and laid down on the carpeted floor, if she could have gotten the thought to somehow transform itself into a physical action.

She shivered, mostly from all the crying, and the dark impulse to turn the vervain water back on gripped her for several minutes. It would burn her skin off, but at least she'd be able to feel something warm… A brief moment of sanity calmed her mind, and she reminded herself that self-harm wasn't going to fix anything. Around then, it occurred to her to call someone. Klaus, Bonnie, Stefan... It wasn't like _they_ couldn't know that her mom had been a vampire when she… That was as far as her train of thought got before she dissolved into tears again.

How long would it be until someone noticed the broken guardrail? Until they realized there was a car in the water? Until they got it out, identified the body? How many hours, days, would she have to endure pretending that she didn't know her own mother was dead? The longer she was submerged, the better her vampirism would be hidden, but Caroline wasn't sure how long she'd last in this torturous interim before she could bury her and grieve in public.

Someone should really tell Damon. She knew that he and her mom had been pretty good friends, and he shouldn't have to find out from rumors. But she couldn't bear the thought of speaking about it. If she said anything out loud, then the already horribly real situation might become more real—might manifest itself more deeply, rooting into even the furthest recesses of her already broken and bleeding heart. Her left hand felt unnaturally warm but the rest of her was ice cold. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes strayed to the showerhead again.

' _Get out of the bathtub._ ' The thought ran through her head, and this time it wasn't an idea, it was a command. Her legs obeyed, and she climbed out and stood in front of the mirror, leaning against the vanity to steady herself. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but not much. Her vampire-healing had kept most of the redness at bay. Her skin was alabaster pale and must've been freezing to the touch, because the cold porcelain beneath her hands felt almost warm. She shivered again, and stumbled out of the bathroom and away from the sick temptation to douse herself in vervain to make the cold go away.

But what was she supposed to do with herself now? She wandered into her bedroom, although was it really her bedroom? She hadn't lived in it for ages, and most of her stuff was at Klaus's mansion. She found some clothes and pulled them on mechanically. She'd been up all night, and needed sleep, but the sun was up, so there wasn't much point in going to bed.

She didn't want to go downstairs either. She didn't want to go into the living room, or see the three-legged chair in the kitchen, or glance out the window at her car—alone—in the driveway. She drank a bag of blood out of her mini-fridge, glad beyond words that she kept the stuff in her bedroom, not the kitchen.

It was Sunday. She was supposed to be on prom clean-up. Let Rebekah worry about that, she decided, lying on her back in the middle of her bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. She was tired beyond words, but somehow doubted that she'd sleep even if she lay there until this time next Sunday.

Something was wrong about the smell of the room. Had she really been gone so long that she could smell her own house, the way other people did? She'd lived in that room her whole life, but it felt alien to her. She was beginning to understand why Elena had burned her house down.

Sunlight streamed through her window onto her face, and she found herself playing with her daylight ring, thinking about being warm, thinking about sunlight…

' _Call somebody_.' As the thought echoed through her head, she let go of her ring and dropped her hands to her sides. Her left hand felt warm again.

"Who?" She whispered. No reason not to think aloud—there was no one to hear her.

-0-

" _Bonnie," Liz suggested immediately. She was sitting on the edge of Caroline's bed, leaning over her daughter, gripping her left hand as hard as she could, trying to hold it away from her right one—and the daylight ring. "Stefan. Anybody."_

" _Elena drama," Caroline mused tiredly, shaking her head a little. Apparently, she thought she was talking to herself._

" _This is important!" Liz almost shouted. Suddenly, her hand clenched, right through Caroline's._

" _Damn it!" she hissed, holding her hands up in front of her face. She wasn't used to ghosting through solid objects._

" _You have to focus." Liz glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened._

" _Jeremy?" she whispered in disbelief. He was sitting on Caroline's desk, watching them with sad eyes._

" _Welcome to the afterlife, Sheriff," he said quietly. Then he nodded at Caroline. "Her hand crossed over, but only part of the way. She's not like me—she can't see us."_

" _She shouldn't be alone right now," Liz murmured, and she knew she didn't have to say anything else. Jeremy's eyes told her he understood. After all, he had seen how his sister reacted to his own death._

" _I don't know what to do…" It was strange, that she could still cry as a ghost, but apparently she could. "I don't know how to help her."_

_Jeremy stood up, and walked over to where he could put a steadying hand on Liz's shoulder._

" _You know how strong she is," he said quietly. "It's hard. But you have to have faith in her, that she'll get through this."_

_Behind Liz, Caroline sat up and rubbed her eyes. Both ghosts turned to watch her walk out of the room, and they followed her down the stairs. Her phone was in her purse, on the hall table, and Liz's heart rose a little. She'd heard her—she was going to call someone. But when she reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner, she stopped. Before she could pass the entrance to the living room._

_She leaned against the wall, forehead resting on her wrist, face hidden, but both ghosts could see how hard she was shaking. It was like there was an invisible barrier between her and the front half of the house, beginning at one side of the living room threshold._

" _Honey," Liz started, reaching out and gripping her left hand again. "You just have to do it. Go get your phone—you have to call somebody." Caroline turned around and slid down the wall to sit on the hall floor. She folded her arms on top of her knees and leaned her head on them. Liz bit her lip in frustration._

_Then Caroline's phone rang. Caroline raised her head sharply, staring at her purse on the hall table. Her ringtone played a second time._

" _Answer it," Liz urged, kneeling down quickly and taking her daughter's hand yet again. "Answer the phone!" It rang a third time, then a fourth._

_As the tone played for the fifth time, Caroline shot to her feet and flashed across the hall to her purse, digging out her phone and checking the caller ID. It was Damon. She frowned in confusion before answering._

" _Hello?" she rasped out. Liz stood up, also confused. Why would Damon be calling Caroline?_

" _It's probably because Elena got her humanity back last night," Jeremy observed quietly. "He's calling to give her the good news."_

" _Thank god," Liz sighed. Caroline was smiling, although tears threatened to fall from her eyes. It_ was _good news, then. "Who managed that one?"_

" _Matt, actually," Jeremy responded, and his face looked impressed, but his eyes had dark sadness in them. Liz hazarded a guess that the process hadn't exactly been healthy for Matt…_

" _That's great!" Caroline exclaimed. Her voice was thick with tears, but Damon could easily misinterpret those as tears of joy that she'd gotten her best friend back. "How's she doing?" She nodded a few times, face turning sober again as she listened._

" _Yeah," she agreed to something in a low, sad voice. "Well, keep me posted, okay?" There was a pause, and then, "call me when she wakes up." She hung up and set her phone down with a long, heavy sigh, but within a few seconds, it had started to ring again._

_It was the Sheriff's office._

_Caroline took a deep, steadying breath, and then hitched her game face on._

" _Hello," she greeted the caller with a passable imitation of normalcy._

" _I guess this means they found your body," Jeremy said softly._

-0-

Klaus awoke that morning with dozens of images of Caroline playing on repeat in his mind, and he lay in bed, pouring over them, for several minutes before getting up. She really had looked stunning. It was a shame the dress was ruined—he'd have liked to have seen her in it again, perhaps at a slightly less childish event.

As he showered, his mind recalled and processed the events of the previous night. Prom, Silas, turning, the kiss… Perhaps he spent a bit more time on that last bit than on the rest. He'd certainly hoped that the evening would end in romance—he hoped that on most occasions where the two of them were together—but after all the madness, he hadn't expected things to go as well as they had. Of course, he hadn't expected his feelings to come spilling out of his mouth, either.

He knew that it would be most responsible to be thinking of solutions to the Silas problem right about then, as he shut off the shower and toweled off, but letting himself be preoccupied with Caroline Forbes was such a delicious distraction, and responsibility had never really been his cup of tea anyway. The inhabitants of this town were all remarkably gifted at preventing evil from succeeding—he had no doubt that if the "good guys" and "bad guys" put their heads together, between the lot of them they'd be able to come up with a workable solution. Which left him to the fantastic prospect of the next step in his wooing of Caroline.

He knew that she cared a great deal about her home and family, and that she intended to live her human life to its fullest before embracing her vampire nature and moving on. That mean she'd finish school—probably attend college, too—keep on cheerleading at football games, go to dances and giggle with her friends over prom pictures.

Prom pictures… which she hadn't had the chance to take, thanks to her last-minute wardrobe crisis.

Ordinarily, this sort of thing wouldn't have bothered Klaus, but the fact that it would bother _her_ so dreadfully when she realized it made the issue seem much larger in his perspective. Also, he did have his own reasons for wanting the evening immortalized.

He couldn't travel back in time and point a camera at her, but that didn't mean he was powerless to remedy the issue. He entered his gallery and dug through his art supplies until her found a sketchbook and some expensive colored pencils. He'd lived most of his life with the only piece of image-capturing technology available in the form of talented human beings and their paintbrushes. Although Caroline had grown up in the digital era, he knew she could appreciate real art. With that thought in mind, he started sketching.

An hour and a half later, the hybrid stretched out his fingers, eyes roving over a pile of drawings on the table in front of him. He'd drawn her at prom, as he'd intended, but he'd gotten a little carried away. He had a few of her when she'd left the house that morning, and a few more of her when she'd stormed in, raving about Elena's theft. He'd drawn her looking through the dresses in his store-room, and holding up a few pieces in front of her, her expressions ranging from amused to thoughtful. He drew her twirling around to show off the white dress from every angle, and the way she'd looked sitting beside him, asking him to come with. But his favorite by far was undoubtedly the picture of her sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing his hoodie, his hand on her face.

After washing the graphite and ink off his fingers, he grabbed his phone from the charger. It was late enough in the morning that she'd likely be awake, and he knew from Rebekah that cleanup committee started at noon, so she had about an hour before she had to be there. He didn't really need to get the pictures to her in such a rush, but he wanted to see her. So, he selected her number from his speed-dial list and pressed the talk button.

"Hello?" He could tell immediately from her hoarse voice that something was wrong.

"Morning, love," he said. "Everything all right?

"I…" she floundered for a moment, and a small knot of worry formed in his stomach. "I'm at the police station," she finished finally. "Something's… something's happened."


	19. Ashes to Ashes

Warm spring sunlight streamed through the tall, multifaceted windows of St. Christopher's Church, illuminating the sanctuary with artistically slanted beams. Pale gold dust-motes floated lazily across the lit air, moving more quickly near the heater vents, and vanishing when the light ended. The smooth old wood of the pews seemed to glow softly, and the dozens of flower-arrangements crowding each other across the platform looked almost like they were actually still alive—like the church had been transformed into some kind of fairy garden. The optical illusion was a fitting substitute for the lack of an actual dead body. Instead of an apparently sleeping person, people could say their goodbyes surrounded by apparently growing flowers.

A small black urn sat on top of the alter, in the middle of the stage. Beside it, a tripod displayed a framed two-year-old picture of Sherriff Elizabeth Forbes in her dress blues, celebrating her 10-year anniversary with the force. She was smiling proudly at the camera, her love for her work practically radiating from her skin. It contrasted oddly with the black ribbon tied at an angle around one of the corners.

Caroline inhaled silently, and then exhaled, trying to steady herself. She'd stayed at the Salvatores' last night, so that Stefan and the newly restored Elena could comfort her, but this morning she'd awoken early, and felt a deep desire to be alone with her thoughts before they became the subject of an entire grieving town's concern and gossip.

Last night, the officers had agreed to cremate the body immediately. They'd rushed things at the coroner's office, and gotten all the data they could possibly get in as short a time as they could possibly do it so that Mystic Falls could mourn and celebrate their fallen Sheriff in peace. Personally, Caroline suspected Damon of pulling some strings and streamlining the process. He was on the council, after all, and Liz _was_ his friend.

"Jolly good thing vampires don't get hay fever," a familiar British voice commented from a few paces behind her. Caroline looked at Klaus over her shoulder, and gave a tiny, appreciative smile. "How are you?" and "Are you okay?" were kind and gracious, but they were already getting old, and she had a sneaking suspicion that they were going to be a lot older by nightfall. Klaus closed the distance between them casually, and stopped when he was beside her.

-0-

_When Klaus arrived at the police station, Caroline was leaning against a deputy's desk, talking to two officers. He couldn't tell if they were interrogating her or comforting her or trying to sell her girl-scout cookies, but he brushed past them without giving either of them a second look. Caroline melted into his arms without saying a word. She leaned her head against his chest, and he could feel how tense she was, and how hard she was trembling. Her skin was unnaturally pale and cold, even for a vampire._

_She embraced him for a long moment, not speaking or moving. Then she pulled away haltingly. Klaus kept an arm around her, and she didn't try to shrug it off, still leaning into him a little._

" _They found her car in the river this morning," she whispered. "It went off of Wickery Bridge. They still aren't sure why."_

_Something about that story seemed off, but Klaus refrained from commenting. Caroline gestured at the two officers._

" _Officer Brandt and Officer Hawkins," she introduced them. "They worked with my mom the most closely." So, they_ had _been exchanging condolences, then. Klaus softened the hostility in his face by a few degrees._

" _Are you sure there isn't anyone you'd like us to contact?" Officer Brandt said softly. Caroline shook her head._

" _She didn't have family in the area, and wasn't on speaking terms with her relatives in the Midwest," she responded. "I guess call the city council, and Mayor Lockwood…" Brandt was already nodding._

" _Already taken care of the official stuff," he assured her. She nodded._

" _Thanks," she whispered._

-0-

"Hey," Caroline said, after a moment of silence, "would you mind coming back to my place with me? I want to go through a bunch of old pictures, maybe put together a little slideshow for the service this afternoon, but…"

"All right," he agreed as she faltered, taking her hand. She smiled, eyes a little red. He knew the rest. She didn't want to be alone in that house. She'd gone home with Stefan last night, so she hadn't been back since her mother died.

It wasn't far from the church to the late Forbes residence—nothing in Mystic Falls was very far from anything else, really. Caroline was silent for the duration of the ten-minute drive, staring blankly out of the window. She could have been admiring the beautiful weather or plotting which families to massacre when her grief overwhelmed her; it was impossible to tell from her face.

When they arrived on her street and Klaus started slowing down, she finally spoke.

"Silas came to visit me last night."

Klaus wasn't an easily startled man, but he still slammed on the brakes, just hard enough for the seat belts to lock up.

"Glad I didn't say that when we were going faster," Caroline quipped, but her attempt to make light of the situation fell flat.

"What happened?" Klaus demanded, his expression a strange mixture of anger and panic that she recognized from other times when he'd been actively worried about her.

Caroline leaned back in the seat and sighed.

-0-

_It was late. Elena and Stefan were asleep on the living room couches, and Damon was still up drinking in the lounge. Caroline disentangled herself carefully from Elena and slipped out of the room and down the stairs to get a blood bag—as usual, her negative emotions were making her thirsty. As she reached the freezer, she pulled out her phone. She had no voicemails. Where the hell was Bonnie in all of this? She'd left Matt at prom after Klaus turned, and no one had seen her since. Caroline was starting to get worried. She sent Bonnie a quick "where are you?" text._

" _No need to fret," Stefan's voice assured her, and she jumped, nearly dropping the blood bag she'd just retrieved. She turned, half smiled, then jumped back, dropping her phone and the bag so she could free her hands._

" _I kicked your ass once in the last 24 hours," she reminded him in a snarl. "I'm happy to repeat the experience." Her ears weren't detecting any other life-signs besides her sleeping friends and Damon pacing above her head; Silas hadn't brought any mind-controlled minions._

_He reached down and picked up her phone and the bag, biting the plug out of the latter and sucking on it thoughtfully as he looked at the message she'd just sent._

" _Mm," he commented, "Damon sure knows where to find the good stuff. Yeah, no need to worry about Bonnie. She's just helping me with a little project."_

" _What have you done to her?" Caroline growled. Silas shrugged innocently._

" _Nothing," he assured her. "We merely want the same thing. To be reunited with a lost loved one. I believe you can relate." Caroline's heart froze, and then took off at a phenomenal rate._

" _You killed her," she whispered as the realization hit. "You turned her with my blood, then you killed her so she'd be on the other side…" He smiled proudly._

" _Well, you needed some incentive to join team-apocalypse," he responded blandly._

_In a blur of motion, she was on top of him, pinning him to the cement floor and ramming her fist into his face over and over. She'd been right before—he was slower and weaker than a vampire. She might not have been able to kill him, but she was certainly going to make sure he understood exactly how he'd made her feel._

" _You know," he coughed, laughter and blood mixing in his voice, "I can still tamper with people's minds in their sleep. Shall I make Elena kill herself? Have Stefan kill her? Would that be a better motivation?" Caroline froze, and he threw her from him and stood up, dusting himself off and wiping a trickle of blood from his already healed jaw. "That's better," he said as she stood up, warily keeping her distance instead of attacking him again. "So, as I was explaining when you so rudely sat on me," he grumbled, "your mother is on the Other Side. If you ever want to see her again, you'll need to run a little errand for me so I can have Bonnie drop the veil on time."_

_Caroline's fists were trembling at her sides, and her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. Silas waited patiently, sipping from the blood bag._

" _What do I have to do?" she whispered finally._

" _That's my girl," he murmured with a smirk._

-0-

"Silas wants _you_ to go find the cure," Klaus checked in confusion. "The bastard reads minds, why wouldn't he bloody well do it himself?" Caroline shrugged tiredly. She couldn't think terribly clearly—she hadn't been able to get back to sleep after Silas left, so that meant she'd gotten about three hours rest in the last two nights. She was completely spent, and the day was just beginning.

"He must have an effective range," she sighed. "Katherine's outside of it, so he can't find her." They sat in silence for a moment, then Klaus shut of the car, got out, and darted around to open her door and offer her a hand before she'd completely removed her seatbelt. She smiled a little and accepted his help, although she didn't strictly need it. She kept his hand as they walked up onto the porch, and let go of it only when she needed to dig out her keys.

As a vampire, Caroline was used to the concept that she could only enter homes into which she'd been invited. She'd walked right into barriers on doorways before, and when she was unsure if she had access to a building or hotel room, there was something a little tense about crossing the threshold. Not only was this her own house, and she _had_ been invited in, months ago, but now, no living person dwelt here to keep her out. Still, she paused, and then braced herself before taking that first step inside, like some magic was clogging up the doorway, blocking her way.

She didn't set her purse down on the hall table, but kept it on her shoulder, as she might if this was a stranger's house. Unlike the front entrance, she didn't balk at the doorway to the living room, but strode right in.

"There's a cupboard under the stairs with a bunch of random cardboard boxes in it," she said as she walked over to the mantelpiece and started stacking framed pictures into her arms. "Some are labeled—Christmas decorations, Ice Skating stuff—but some aren't, and they're just filled with random stuff. Can you grab those and bring them into the kitchen?"

"Sure," Klaus responded quietly, and headed back into the hallway. Caroline piled the pictures she'd collected onto the kitchen table, and then headed up to the attic. They didn't keep much up there—just the Christmas tree, their out-of-season clothes and Caroline's bicycle from when she was little—but she knew that after her parents got divorced, her mom had stashed away a bunch of stuff that reminded her of her ex-husband. Hopefully, that would include some wedding photos, and maybe even a few pictures of them dating. Although they'd had an ugly split up, Caroline wanted to show as much of her mom's life as she could, including twelve or more years of marriage. Come to think of it, she didn't even know how long they'd been married when they had her…

"Need any help up here?" Klaus asked, appearing at her side. She'd heard him move the boxes at vampire-speed, but she couldn't quite make herself go through this on fast-forward.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for," she responded quietly, walking a few steps into the middle of the low, slanted room. "It's not as organized in here—we don't come up very often. We didn't even put up the tree last year…" Klaus didn't say anything, and she looked back at him. He was clearly resisting the temptation to ask if she was okay. She smiled a little.

"I basically haven't slept in two days," she sighed. "I'm kind of fuzzy in the head at the moment, and so some part of me is convinced that this is all one massively horrible nightmare, and that if I just ride it out, I'll eventually wake up. Find out that the last real thing that happened to me was making out with you, and that I went to bed afterwards, and just… clearly didn't drink enough to sleep." She finished quietly. It was a sad, frustrating emotional moment for both of them—the mix between remembering the kiss and knowing everything that had gone so wrong afterwards.

"Let's get to it, then," he murmured, and then deliberately turned away and started rifling through the closest box. She smiled again and followed suit. One good thing in an otherwise abysmal day—Klaus was turning out to be a wonderfully supportive… _boyfriend_. If it was in fact appropriate to use that term at this early stage, which it probably wasn't—they'd only kissed once. So far.

Mentally shaking herself a little to return to the present, she pulled out a big photo of her mom and a bunch of other officers at some department party, and set it on top of the Christmas tree box.

It was a long, dusty morning, in the attic, in the stair cupboard, in random cabinets in the living room as Caroline searched for the illusive family photo albums that her dad had compiled from the few—three, to be exact—times they'd all gone on vacation together. Locating actual pictures of her mom was incredibly difficult; it wasn't that Liz was camera-shy, but this was the first time that Caroline realized just how much her mom stayed in the background of things. There were some she found online of her mom speaking at press conferences, but those were all so tied into crime and disaster, she wanted to try and keep them to a minimum. Liz was usually the one who took the photos of Caroline and Bill in front of landmarks or showing off cheerleading outfits, or, or, or…

After much digging, and a lot of Klaus sorting through endless papers, they found _one_ wedding picture, and to Caroline's disappointment, it was only from the shoulders up, so she couldn't even get a good look at her mom's dress. She looked happy, though. That one went in the slowly-growing pile of images headed for the memorial video.

"Why couldn't we have been a normal family, like you see in the movies, who write dates on the backs of photos?" Caroline grumbled as she set a worn picture of her mom wearing a maternity dress in the pile.

"Not sure if normal families actually do that, love," Klaus reminded her as he flipped through a photo album that was ninety-percent Caroline, nine-percent Bill. "Hollywood isn't exactly the best representation of reality…" She rolled her eyes as he smirked.

"I know this one's 1992, obviously," she sighed, picking up the pregnancy photo, "but I don't even know how long after my parents' wedding it was. I think I'll have to intentionally randomize these—it'll be kind of embarrassing if I try to put them in order by time and get it wrong. I'm her daughter—I should probably know her wedding anniversary, or at least how many years she was married before I came along. Despite the way things ended between them…"

Great, now she was thinking about her dad, and the tears she'd been avoiding all morning were gathering at the corners of her eyes. She'd lost both of them now—her whole family was dead.

"It's weird that I can't seem to find anything from when she was in school," she commented before she could start to wallow. "You'd think she'd have yearbooks or something." She stood up. "I know she's got some other boxes of stuff in her closet…" she murmured as she headed for the stairs again.

"Would you like me to wait?" Klaus asked as he realized she was about to enter her dead mother's room. She would have liked to have said yes—that she could do this part alone. But she froze up for a moment, and her throat ached. He closed the distance between them, not needing to hear anything beyond her silence. Cheeks glowing in shame at her childishness, she took his hand as they ascended to the second floor. He laced their fingers together, and heat spread from her palm up her arm, and warmed the rest of her body.

Her mom's bed was scrupulously made, and the room was neat and tidy, as always. She went straight to the closet, sliding the doors open and scanning the top shelf. Between a pair of seldom-worn dress shoes and her winter comforter, Liz had an old shoebox with bits of paper sticking out at the top. It was covered in dust as Caroline carefully lifted it down.

On top lay Caroline's birth certificate, followed by a few of her old report cards and her social security card. Beneath was a layer of police paperwork from when Liz was elected Sheriff, and underneath that was a layer from when she was hired as an officer. Caroline's searching fingers were nearing the bottom, and she was beginning to give up hope when she fumbled a little and dropped the lid of the box. Klaus quickly caught it, but a single glossy photograph slid free and drifted down towards the carpet. The hybrid easily captured it with his other hand before it landed.

"What is it?" Caroline asked quietly, wondering why her mom would have a picture stored between the lid and the bottom of the box.

"A charming family photo," Klaus responded, handing it to her.

The picture showed seven blonde girls, ranging in age from pre-teens to young adults. They all looked related, and each one of them could easily have been Caroline's sister—or at least cousin. On the back, in neat, unfamiliar handwriting, were seven first names: Contessa, Jane-Anne, Marguerite, Alana, Gracia, Celeste and Eleanora.

"None of them are her," she murmured in vague confusion, turning the photo back over to look at the image. The picture was in color, and didn't look old enough to be from the generation prior to her mom's. Perhaps her one of her grandparents had a sibling, and these were _their_ seven daughters—her mom's cousins? "I guess the feminine gene is pretty strong in my family," she commented, setting the picture in the box and returning it to the shelf. There was nothing in there she could use for the video tribute, and she couldn't try to deal with anything else right now. Multitasking was only a skill of hers when she was completely awake.

By noon, Mrs. Lockwood was calling, wanting to know where she was, if she was all right, if she'd be on time for the ceremony, how long she'd need for her eulogy.

"The eulogy I haven't written yet," Caroline admitted heavily as she completed the video and e-mailed it to herself for safekeeping. Klaus glanced at his watch. The service started in three hours. But it wasn't like he was about to judge her for putting that bit off. Two and a half hours later, however, when they arrived at the church and the newly emotional Elena flung her arms around Caroline, followed by Stefan and Matt, Caroline's notebook that she'd been trying to draft her speech in was still quite empty.

"I'm assuming you'll want the family row for your friends," Carol said softly as she gave Caroline a squeeze, and Caroline nodded gratefully. She had no surviving relatives to fill up the pew.

Caroline hadn't been conscious to experience the odd, tense peace that her presence had created in Klaus's mansion when she'd been comatose, but she got a rerun that afternoon. Klaus did offer to slip away so she'd be more approachable to people like Carol Lockwood, who despised him, but she'd gripped his hand with crushing force, and her response was clear—don't go anywhere. He sat on the end of the front row, with Caroline next to him, Elena on her other side, Stefan beside her, and Damon beside Stefan. Matt and April sat in the row behind them, also near the aisle. On the other side, Mrs. Lockwood and Mr. Hopkins sat in the front row, along with two pews full of police in their dress uniforms.

The organist played a hymn, and then the officers did Liz's last call, and folded her flag. Caroline stood up afterwards and walked slowly up to the pulpit. Her notebook lay forgotten on the pew, and Elena and Klaus exchanged slightly worried looks over her empty seat. The blonde vampire adjusted the microphone for her height, and stood there silently for a moment, eyes closed. The tiny shiftings and coughs and other natural human noises made by three-hundred and some people in a large, otherwise silent room, seemed to amplify and echo right up into the rafters as Caroline's pause lengthened. It was like when Elena, freshly turned and starving, had tried to speak at the Farmhouse Memorial—there she was, in front of everybody, but the words wouldn't come. Stefan had saved Elena that day, and as the seconds ticked by, Elena wondered if it was her turn to do the favor.

"This is for my mom," Caroline said finally. She stepped back from the pulpit, away from the microphone.

Then she began to sing.

" _Go in peace, go in kindness, go in love, go in faith."_

The people filling the church fell silent. As Caroline's voice filled the space, echoing hauntingly across the walls, it was like everyone froze—like she'd literally captivated them, and taken away every breath in the room. It was obvious why she'd ignored the microphone—she didn't need it.

" _Leave the day, day behind us, day is done, go in grace."_

"She's amazing," April breathed. She sounded a little choked up. Her own father had died in the council fire, if Klaus recalled correctly.

"It's what she does," Matt explained in a rough whisper, "when she's unable to speak."

" _Let us go, into the dark, not afraid, not alone. Let us hold, by some good pleasure, safely to, arrive at home."_

Caroline took a deep breath after she finished, before she opened her eyes and descended to sit back in the pew. The profound silence was a stark contrast to the way she'd filled the room with sound a moment ago. She wasn't crying when she returned to her seat, but Elena, Matt and April all were, and Elena gave her a long hug and Matt put his hand on her shoulder as Damon stood up to take the pulpit.

After Damon finished speaking, several others got up and shared memories of Liz Forbes. Matt and Elena were both unabashedly sobbing by the end, but somehow Caroline wasn't. After the last grieving friend had said his piece, someone turned on the projector and played Caroline's tribute video. It was simple, just a slideshow of pictures with soft instrumental music in the background. She hadn't been able to find anything from before her parents' marriage—no school photos or anything with her mom as a child. But between department parties and a few vacation snapshots, she'd managed to fill three minutes with her mother's smile.

When the video ended, and with it the service, Caroline was suddenly surrounded by throngs of people—the normal human kind, who didn't know enough about Klaus for his presence to keep them at bay. Half the town wanted to hug the blonde vampire or shake her hand or offer condolences and help and listening ears and casseroles. Klaus lingered for a few minutes to gauge how she was reacting, and if she was in need of rescue, but she seemed pleased by the town's outpouring of sympathy and love for her mother, so the hybrid edged away to give her some time. He wasn't a moment too soon, either. Three separate lines had formed heading towards her location as people waited to speak with her. He made eye-contact with her once, after he'd gotten free of the mob, and she gave him a little awkward smile, like she was saying, "this might take a little while…"

"Think she needs armed guards and a limo to get her out of here in one piece?" Damon quipped as Klaus neared him and the table of light refreshments near which he loitered.

"I haven't ruled it out yet," Klaus responded with something like an attempt at humor. Damon nodded and slipped away, probably to find a bottle of bourbon and a quiet corner to mourn in his own way. Klaus leaned against the wall, checking his messages—or rather, pretending to check them so he wouldn't feel like a bloody fool standing around a church waiting for Caroline to need him. A glass of something amber-colored hung between his eyes and his phone screen, and he accepted the drink from Stefan wordlessly.

"You look edgy," Stefan commented quietly. Klaus drank the liquor and refilled the glass with lemonade from the refreshment table. Was he edgy? He wasn't entirely certain, if he was honest with himself. His emotions were behaving… unusually.

"I'll do my utmost not to commit murder in the pretty little church," he assured the other vampire with a dry smirk. He hadn't been aware that there was anything amiss with his expression until Stefan had pointed it out. He unfocused his senses for a moment, then honed in on Caroline and the people knotted around her. Instantly, indignation flared as he heard some of their comments, and sensed the little hitch in Caroline's heartbeat. How was it bloody helpful to say that they'd advised her mom against keeping such a dangerous job? Who was talking? The speaker had her back to him.

"Please keep in mind that Caroline will be upset if you ruin her mom's funeral," Stefan sighed. From his face, it was evident that he, too, could hear the massively unhelpful town gossips.

"Why do you think I'm still all the way over here?" Klaus hissed slowly, willing himself to remain moderately human-looking, and not burn down the building with his eyes. Stefan nodded, and pulled a flask out of his inner pocket, taking a swig before hiding it again. That explained a few things—Klaus hadn't _thought_ they served whiskey at church functions. The two men stood in silence for another few minutes.

"You know," Stefan finally said, "it may not be today." Klaus looked over at him quizzically. "Caroline's a strong person, and she knew what she was getting into when she walked through those doors," the younger vampire explained. "She can probably handle the funeral. So, it might not be today that she needs you. But next week, next month, when the people around her are moving on and starting to forget that her life was just shattered… that's when she's going to need you."

For a moment, Klaus was tempted to accuse Stefan of being Silas. How could he have known about the incomprehensible _jealousy_ that had taken root in his heart as soon as Caroline was surrounded by other people all trying to comfort her? But he remembered Stefan back in the 20s—even as an emotionless ripper, his friend had been remarkably intuitive. Stefan was the sort of person who could guess the kinds of feelings that lurked beneath the Original's hard outer shell. And, he reminded himself, Stefan—like all vampires—had once had a family too.

He nodded, finished his lemonade, and returned to checking his phone.

It wasn't until near the end of the reception that Caroline's patience finally wore thin. She was sitting on one of the pews about halfway down the aisle, listening with feigned politeness to some living-on-your-own advice from the bored housewives of Mystic Falls and trying to make herself eat a cupcake Elena had brought her. Elena was beside her, trying repeatedly to steer the conversation away from all the things Caroline would have to do now that there was no one to do them for her, but although Caroline had squeezed her hand a few times in gratitude for the effort, it wasn't really helping much. Klaus had discovered that Elijah had attended the service—arrived after his younger brother and sat in the back—and the two were talking in low voices, speculating about where Bonnie and Silas might be and what they could be doing.

"Get me out of here." The plea was breathed in the merest whisper—the humans within a few feet of Caroline probably hadn't heard a thing. But Klaus's vampire hearing was honed in on her voice, and he immediately stood and started walking towards her.

"You know, I think a better solution would be just to burn down the house," Elena said loudly. "I mean, since mine burned down, at least I have the insurance money—and I don't have to dust things." The gasps of horror covered the sound of Caroline slipping out of her seat, and since everyone's scandalized eyes were focused on Elena, no one saw Klaus appear, wrap his coat and arm around Caroline's shoulders and usher her quickly out of the sanctuary and into the cool spring evening.

"Thanks," Caroline sighed, rubbing her eyes. "They were actually starting to convince me that adult life is as terrifying as it sounds."

"Any time," Klaus responded smoothly as he opened the passenger door of his car. "Kidnapping happens to be a hobby of mine." Caroline almost laughed as she sat down and he closed the door.

"I think I'm about to sleep for twelve hours," she murmured as the hybrid sat down in the driver's seat and fired up the engine. "Hopefully longer."

When they arrived back at the mansion, Alphonse had prepared a light dinner, which both immortals ate in silence. Despite her obvious exhaustion, Caroline lingered in the dining room, drinking an extra glass of blood, then an extra glass of wine, and finally just sitting there, eyes fixed on a knot in the woodgrain of the table.

"You should rest," Klaus said quietly after she'd remained still and silent for nearly a quarter hour. She nodded, but made no move to get up.

"I'm afraid of getting to tomorrow," she whispered finally.

"Why's that?" he pressed, voice gentle. When she didn't answer, he stood up and walked to her side. She got up when he did, but didn't turn to leave the room. She looked up at him, eyes red, face exhausted, skin shockingly white. Then she stepped forward, into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

"Today's been all about saying goodbye," she breathed after several moments. "But tomorrow, life starts back up again. I have to do things, go places, talk to people… I'm not ready."

"You don't have to be," he murmured back, stroking her hair and holding her close. "Call out of school—if you like, we can have Elijah do it, he's got a wonderful administrative voice." He felt her move a little—another almost-laugh. "Cheerleading and planting flowers around the town will wait," he continued. "You don't have to do anything until you're ready."

"And Silas?" she asked, a little hitch in her voice when she said his name. "I think he's waited about as long as he's going too." She looked up at him, and he could see the fear—panic, even—in her eyes. "I want to do the right thing here," she explained, voice catching as she held back the tears that she'd kept in check nearly all day. "But… the only way I can do that is if I… if I somehow… _hate_ him more than I _love_ her! And… I don't think I can… I don't… I…"

Her hands fisted into his shirt as she gave up trying to speak and sobbed into his shoulder. They stood there for a little while, then when he realized she wasn't going to get ahold of this any time soon, he scooped her up and carried her into the living room, sitting down on the couch and holding her as she fell apart. As Caroline's heart finally shattered into countless jagged shards, she huddled into Klaus, like she was safely hidden away from the world within a fortress built from his body and her loose hair—here she could let herself fall apart, because she knew he'd be there at the end of it all, to put her back together again.


	20. Zero to Sixty

Waking up to the steady rhythm of someone else's heartbeat was a novel experience for Caroline. Even with her boyfriends, she had never actually slept in the same bed, opting instead to sneak out and return home before she could be judged by spying parental eyes or done anything embarrassing in her sleep. Now, she was wondering why she'd been so worried. The soft cotton fabric of Klaus's shirt was gentle against her cheek, and his arms around her were warm and comforting. She lay still and silent, enjoying the moment, and trying her best not to let her brain wake up all the way. She was fantastically comfortable, fantastically relaxed, fantastically warm, and somewhere in the periphery of her consciousness, a dark storm-cloud hovered, and she didn't want to delve back into whatever it was. Not yet.

Along with her memories, her vampire-self seemed to still be slumbering deeply, and she reveled in how soothing the sound of another person's heart could be, without thinking about blood or lies or emotional analyzing or anything else that she usually associated with that sound. She was all wrapped up in blankets and strong arms, and she could hear Klaus's immortal life ticking along, never changing its tempo, directly beneath her ear.

In her half-dreaming state, it was like her mind fully opened up to the concept of "eternity" for the first time. She hadn't been able to comprehend it, but there, on the border of sleeping and waking, she felt like she could understand what it really meant.

Of course, it was just as she'd started to really grasp the idea that the waiting storm-cloud blew in on the wind of her thoughts and woke her up fully.

She was in bed with Klaus because he'd held and comforted her all night.

Because she'd been distraught.

Because her mother was dead.

Because some of those she loved _weren't_ eternal.

She hadn't moved, hadn't shifted, but somehow he knew she was awake—Klaus's hand started running gently up and down her spine, and he kissed the top of her head.

"Morning, love," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She moaned and snuggled closer into him, not wanting to wake up any further. Sensing her intent, he tightened his arms around her a little, his hand continuing its gentle progression up and down her back.

She'd sort of expected that the first time they'd wake up in bed together, they'd be a little more, well, _naked_. As full consciousness intruded on her mind against her will, she remembered vaguely how the previous evening had gone. After the funeral, she'd broken down, and he'd brought her into the living room, where she'd wept inconsolably for she wasn't entirely sure how long. Somewhere along the line, she'd exhausted herself, and she was pretty sure he'd asked if she wanted to go to bed. She couldn't remember her response, but he'd picked her up again, like she was a child, and carried her upstairs. But she hadn't wanted to be alone, and she'd started crying hysterically again, begging him not to leave. She didn't know at what point he'd brought her into his room instead of her own, but she could tell that they were in his bed and not hers by the feel and smell of the bedding. He must've reassured her somehow—the tee-shirt he was wearing certainly wasn't the same button-down he'd had on at the funeral, so he must've disentangled himself at some point to change out of his formal clothes into something he could sleep in.

Embarrassment flooded through her and she stiffened a little as she recalled her behavior with more clarity. He'd seen her acting like a hysterical toddler, and despite that, there he was, still cuddling her, still gently stroking her back. As he sensed her shifting in discomfort, he pressed his lips to her forehead, and swept her hair out of her face with his thumb.

"Suppose I should warn you, you've got about three-score phone messages," he said softly. "The screen lit up a little while ago; apparently the thing's been blowing up all night on silent."

"How long have you been awake?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes but focusing on the clock on the bedside table, not looking up at him. She knew she was turning red. As a human, she hadn't thought she'd blushed often, but once she'd turned, she'd noticed the previously invisible transitions that her tell-tale skin had been experiencing the whole time…

"Not long," he responded. His thumb brushed back and forth across her reddening cheek. Slowly, the blush faded, and hear heart-rate slowed. Apparently, he didn't mind.

She should've stayed with him earlier. The realization flowed in as her embarrassment ebbed. The past two torturous nights might've been more bearable if she'd had the sense to call him. True, his presence didn't make Silas any less powerful, or her mom any less dead. But after everything that they'd been through and everything that had happened between them over the past few months, she knew he'd always be there for her, and that right now, he'd do anything in his power to help her, even spending hours on end just holding her when that was what she needed most. That kind of devotion was wonderfully encouraging.

"Your phone's awake again," Klaus murmured into her hair after another few minutes. She couldn't tell for sure if he was kissing and cuddling her because he was in comfort-mode or because he wanted to be close to her, and she was finally letting him. Maybe it was both. She sighed, not wanting to move even though she was fully awake now. But somehow the situation and reminded her of a story Elena had once told her, and she snorted with laughter. She could feel him looking down at her in confusion, and finally she tilted her head up a little to look at him. She was smirking.

"This one time," she explained, "Elijah wanted to have a serious conversation with Elena, so he took her phone. But, Elena used to be a cheerleader, she had Stefan and Damon practically stalking her to keep her safe, and, well, Bonnie and I both have her number." She smirked again—that last bit didn't really need any elaborating. "She said he made it about thirty minutes before he whipped the thing out and said, if I have my quote right, 'Your phone will not cease its incessant buzzing—answer it.'"

"I'm actually surprised he made it that long," Klaus admitted with a chuckle. The feeling of him laughing beneath her made her stomach flutter and her knees turn into jelly, and she immediately smiled back, and then rolled her eyes, sitting up and feigning great interest in her phone to hide her blush.

"It's seven in the morning," she grumbled, unplugging it. She was still in her dress and nylons from the funeral, but Klaus must've removed her shoes and plugged in her phone. "Who's…" she started as she glanced at the caller-ID. Bonnie's face smiled up at her from the glowing screen.

"Bonnie?" She exclaimed as she unlocked and answered the phone.

"Hey," Bonnie greeted her, relief, concern and tears in her voice. "I'm _so_ sorry I couldn't be at the funeral." Caroline was shaking her head, although her friend couldn't see it.

"I know you'd have been there if you could," she responded graciously, although she could hear a quiet growl from behind her—apparently Klaus was feeling less benevolent. "What's been happening?"

"Silas," Bonnie responded immediately. Caroline froze, not breathing, heart faltering.

"Are you okay?" she demanded.

"I'm just fine, Care. He's still trying to get me to do the spell for him, and I told him I would, so he'd let his guard down. I have a plan," Bonnie announced. "I can't say much, because we know he still has some kind of access to your head, since he can make you see Stefan. But I wanted to let you know that I'm going to fix this."

"How?" Caroline asked quietly. She couldn't raise her voice to a normal volume because then her friend might notice the mixture of emotions in it. Her mom was dead—how was Bonnie supposed to "fix" anything? She hadn't even come to the funeral.

"I've seen his true form," the young witch explained. "Now that I've seen his real face, he can't fool me anymore—he can't get inside my head." _That_ piqued Caroline's interest. Maybe Bonnie knew why she'd been seeing Stefan every time Silas tried to mess with her mind. "Quetsiya really did a number on him," Bonnie muttered as an afterthought. "He's hideous." So, _she_ certainly wasn't seeing Stefan, then.

"How'd you manage to see?" the blonde vampire asked.

"He _had_ to show it to me," Bonnie responded. "He had to give me something as an expression of trust, because he needs me to help him—I'm the only one who can do his spell. He didn't have a choice." Although she spoke in a low voice, appropriate to such a dark topic, there was a hard brightness behind her tone; Caroline didn't need to see her to know she was glowing with pride.

"So what _is_ the plan?" She pressed.

"I can't give too many details," Bonnie replied quickly. "Silas can still read your mind, after all. But I need you to do something for me, since he at least has _some_ kind of trouble reading you, and if I vanish, it'll look suspicious."

"What do you need?" Caroline asked quickly.

"Quetsiya's tombstone," Bonnie explained in a quiet voice. "I think Katherine has it. Can you get it from her? Discretely?" Caroline considered that for a moment.

"I think so," she said finally.

"Good," Bonnie responded, sounding relieved. "Don't call me about it—I'll call you when I'm sure the coast is clear on my end. If everything goes well, by the time we graduate, this will all be over. I love you, Care."

"Love you too, Bon," Caroline replied quietly, and then the other line disconnected. She hung up her own phone and set it back down on the night-table. Her head was spinning. Although _prima facie_ this was a dreadful time for Bonnie to be dumping mysterious witchy stuff on her, distractions were probably extremely healthy for her at the moment, and this one was a doozy.

"Well, _that_ was informative," Klaus grumbled, sitting up and stretching. Caroline had turned to look at him as he began speaking, and her eyes caught him mid-stretch and silent yawn. It was the strangest sight—he looked so… _normal_. Human. She looked back at her phone before he could catch her staring—explaining why she was amused would be impossible, and mortifying even if she could manage it. Yes, original hybrids stretched and yawned when they woke up in the morning, just like everybody else. Nothing to see here, Caroline.

"You all right?"

There it was—after three days of refraining from the use of such phrases, he'd asked the standard, useless, if-you-have-to-ask-the-answer's-obvious question. But in this case, it fit, because this time the answer _wasn't_ obvious. She sighed silently, but she knew he could see her shoulders drop.

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. She looked over her shoulder, flashing him a small, tight smile. She didn't want to worry him, but at the same time, she really had no idea how this was making her feel.

"My best friend skipped my mother's funeral because she was on a coffee date with her murderer. Now she's sending me on errands so she can screw him over and hopefully kill him—and she thinks this will please me." She spoke in a cool monotone, stating facts without emotion or interpretation. She tried to feel her face from the inside, but she couldn't. "I don't know," she repeated, turning away again with another, more audible sigh.

She opened her calendar application. Graduation was in three weeks. Thanks to the linked astronomical calendar app she'd downloaded way back when Tyler had started to turn, she also knew that the next full moon was, conveniently, the night before graduation. She wondered if Bonnie meant to channel it. Of course, she should probably try to avoid thinking about it too much… Except, she was pretty sure that Silas _couldn't_ get inside her head, so she really _could_ safely know the plan…

Her heart faltered, and she whipped around again to look at Klaus. He frowned a little, looking up from checking his own messages—or, at least pretending to check them while he waited for her to sort out her feelings. But her reaction wasn't a response to anything he'd done—it was her body recognizing her acute need to bounce ideas off of somebody before her brain had gotten that far.

" _Bonnie_ thinks Silas can't get inside _her_ head," she said slowly. He nodded—he'd heard.

" _I_ think he can't get inside of _my_ head," she continued, setting her phone down. He nodded again, unsure of where this was going.

"We aren't seeing the same thing," she whispered ominously. There was a beat. Then he got it.

"One of you is wrong," he finished for her, gravely. There was another beat. "Bonnie," he decided immediately. Caroline cocked her head questioningly. "Your ability to see through Silas's illusions surprised everyone, including himself," he explained. "Bonnie's immunity is dependent on Silas's trust in her. I believe the last time he trusted a witch, she murdered his one true love, created a purgatory for every dead supernatural creature on the face of the earth, and trapped Silas in a tomb to rot for two millennia while waiting for him to commit suicide so she could spend the rest of eternity torturing him in a hell she'd created specifically for him. How much do you think the bloke trusts witches?"

Caroline's heart started pounding, and her hands shook a little.

"Bonnie's in danger," she breathed, panic constricting her lungs. "If he can see that she's plotting against him…" she fumbled for her phone, but suddenly Klaus had closed the distance between them and had his hand on top of hers, restraining it—albeit gently. "I have to warn her," she exclaimed, trying to shift his hand away.

"Wait," he cautioned, "be smart about this." Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and she could feel the veins around them darkening as fear and rage awoke her more vampiric side.

"I _cannot lose anyone else,_ " she almost snarled. His face didn't change—of course her vamp-tantrum wouldn't phase him, he was a thousand years old and lived with Rebekah. It probably seemed like a normal facial expression to him.

"If Silas can get inside her head, then he already knows what she's planning," he explained patiently. "But he hasn't killed her, not yet. He needs her alive to do his spell. Expressionists are extremely rare among witch circles—the magic's too volatile. He'll have a rough go of it, finding another to fill her place if he kills her. He'll let her think she's in control, let her play out her plan to its inevitable failure, frighten her, remind her that he's got the power in all of this, and then demand she do his spell."

The tension slowly eased out of Caroline's body, although it didn't vanish entirely. He did know what he was talking about when it came to being the bad guy and manipulating people. Was it twisted that she found that fact reassuring? Of course not, she chided herself. There was never anything wrong with appreciating an expert's opinion, even if the subject matter was unsavory.

"If you tell her you know, that changes the game," he added, sensing the way she was gradually relaxing. "He'll see in his mind that she's been warned, and might reevaluate the values of efficiency versus effectiveness—might decide that it's worth it to go find a less prepared witch. She's only in danger if she knows about it, love." Caroline nodded, setting her phone on the bedspread. Klaus's hand was still wrapped around hers, and she kept it without really thinking.

"There has to be some way of taking advantage of this mind thing I have going on," she sighed. "Physically, he isn't that strong—I tossed him around like a rag doll at prom. The mind-control thing is really his only skill."

"Are you sure about that?" Klaus asked, a hint of dry superiority—only a hint, though, and mostly drowned by concern—in his voice. "As I recall, he broke both your arms and stabbed you repeatedly."

"Like I said," she responded, rolling her eyes, "mind-control. Alone, he's nothing…"

Oh, _hell_.

She hadn't yet told Klaus exactly who Silas had forced to do what that night. To be fair, it had sort of slipped her mind, what with his rough turn and their unexpected kiss and her mother dying. It was too late to take back the words, or her suddenly speeding heartbeat and the about-to-be-exposed secret it implied.

"Technically, you and Damon broke my arms, Elena staked me, and Silas only stabbed me when all three of you were holding me down." If the Band-Aid was going to come off anyway, it was best to rip it away as quickly and succinctly as possible. Through the hand she was holding, she could feel his whole body tense, and heard his intake of breath—so slight that not even another vampire would've noticed it if the room hadn't been quiet enough to hear a pin drop on plush carpet.

"Trust me," she added with a cocky smirk, "he _desperately_ needed the backup. I think _Matt_ could probably take him on if he couldn't use his mentalism." They had to find a way to shut off his mental powers—that was the key to everything. He was nothing without those. But how to accomplish it? It was frustrating that she couldn't just get everyone together for a meeting and discuss plans, but Bonnie was right—Silas could see into their friends' minds, and would see their plan coming from miles away. But he'd _expect_ tricks and treachery from her, based on her friends' thoughts and memories of her, and the simple fact that she was immune to him. So he'd also see _her_ coming from too far away.

"You failed to mention that earlier," Klaus murmured. She looked up at him. His eyes were dark with what a person unfamiliar with his face would call anger. And it did look similar, but she knew him well enough to recognize that the rage was one of guilt. For a moment, the urge to fling herself at him and try to kiss the hurt away was overwhelming, but she knew that although it would distract him, it wouldn't actually help anything.

"It failed to be relevant," she responded with a shrug. " _Silas_ did the deed—the point is, he was too weak to use his own hands to do it. I just don't know how to _use_ that! Ugh!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as she tried to brush off the emotional moment and get back into the problem of the present, and hoping he'd follow where she led. She didn't know how to deal with guilty Klaus—she hadn't known until thirty seconds ago that he had that one in his emotional repertoire.

"We'd have to find a way to shut down his mentalism," he said quietly, leaning over and retrieving his phone. She could see him scrolling through his contacts and selecting Terry.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, and now it was her turn to restrain _his_ hand. Her mind was suddenly in overdrive. Terry lived nearby. It was bad enough that Klaus knew about her immunity—they couldn't keep involving people with accessible minds. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "I know what you're doing and why—trust me, _don't_."

Warmth spread through her, starting from her stomach and filling her chest, as he locked his phone and set it down, just because she'd asked.

Of course, now that meant she needed a plan to back it up—like, five minutes ago. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. She wondered briefly if he could hear the wheels turning in her brain. She needed a witch, a spell, and a Trojan Horse* to deliver it. The first, she could find at NIU—although getting her help without a friendly werewolf to talk up her roommate would be complicated. The last… her eyes widened as the solution hit her. _Klaus could compel vampires._ He could compel them to forget things, to believe things… Silas couldn't read in someone's mind what _wasn't there_. That took care of her Trojan Horse. And for the spell…

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her eyes boring into his. He paused for a moment, considering. She wasn't surprised—this was kind of a big deal, and she was an eighteen-year-old cheerleader. She waited patiently for his answer—this plan wasn't going to work if he couldn't trust implicitly.

"What do you need?" he responded finally.

"A favor," she responded immediately. "Not now, and I can't tell you what it is until I need it. And I need you to try not to think about it too much or question why I would need it," she added. This was really awkward to try to talk about… "It's not a huge deal, for you," she finished. "It'll only take a few seconds—but I can't yet say what or why. Can you do that?" He frowned, clearly confused, but nodded.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, and then swung her legs off the bed and stood up, grabbing her phone. She inhaled deeply as she scrolled through her contacts, selecting Elena's name. She exhaled, then hit the call button.

"Hey, Elena," she greeted her, infusing her voice with stress and relief and sadness and frustration. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see a little smirk on Klaus's face as he watched her turn on the act. Must've been a novel experience for him, since he was usually the one on the other end…

"So," she said, in her 'getting right down to business' voice, "I'm on drama overload and magic overload and small-town overload, and I don't think I can stand going to school for the next couple of days and listening to everyone whisper about me. I really need some girl time. Think I could convince you to skip school today? Get the hell outta' dodge?"

-0-

Klaus waited until Caroline had left the room before he got up and headed for the shower. She was handling this whole situation better than he'd expected, particularly after how much pain he'd seen her endure last night. But maybe that was the reason she _was_ so functional today. Unlike many other vampires he knew, she'd let her grief in, and then let it out. She'd let herself feel the pain, and now she was working on a solution. It was very practical—very Caroline. But still…

He'd expected her to break down at some point, or turn off her humanity, or at least get unbelievably intoxicated and rip into some people's throats. In fact, if she hadn't by that evening, he was already planning to take her to a club a few hours down the highway, where vervain was _not_ routinely served in every beverage, so she could do a little sublimating. What he hadn't been prepared for was how her reaction would affect _him_.

After a thousand years on this earth, he'd become familiar with the way that someone comforting a crying person would often cry themselves, but he'd never expected to feel the urge himself—that would be ridiculous. He'd barely known the Sheriff until she'd been visiting Caroline in his house, and even then they'd hardly spoken.

No, it wasn't about Liz—not for him. It was seeing Caroline in such agony that had nearly driven him mad with the pain of it. As she'd lain in his arms, broken and sobbing uncontrollably, it was like jagged splinters were piercing his heart, but the relief of temporary death never came. The immensity of his own powerlessness had crushed down on him, like it had that day in the Gilbert living room when she lay at death's door and all he could do was offer to build a clinic. How much help had that been, really? And now here he was again, wanting to do something about the situation, but finding that the only thing in the world he could do to help was hold her as she wept. This was better than the last time, because this time she wasn't dying, but it was also worse, because she was hurting and he could see it, but there was nothing he could do to fix it, although he was desperate too.

He was beginning to remember why he'd chosen to be the bad guy, rather than the hero. Evil accomplished things, evil was easy to think through and plan, and, truth be told, it gave him a great deal of pleasure. And underneath it all, he was rather dreadful at being good. Unfortunately, it seemed that neither evil nor good were going to help him much in this scenario.

And then there was Silas. He'd promised Caroline three days ago that they would defeat the bastard, and she would be safe. Now, not only had Silas killed her only living family, _she_ was now the one who had to face him, because as far as they knew, she was the only one who could. And although he would have done anything, given anything, to be able to do it himself, to take her place in this, there was no way he could do it.

His hands clenched into fists, itching to be clenching around something—something warm and soft and wet and still beating. It might've been werewolf rage, it might've just been the situation and his natural coping mechanism, but anger seared across his mind, and brought hunger with it.

He was _Klaus Mikaelson_. He didn't stand around being emotional when he was upset; he retaliated.

He might not have been able to do anything as far as planning to take down Silas went, but one thing he could certainly try to do was find him, attack him, and hopefully make him suffer until whatever Caroline was planning came to fruition. His fangs extended, and his lips peeled back in something between a grin and a snarl.

-0-

"So, where are you thinking?" Elena asked as Caroline drove them down the highway, headed north out of Mystic Falls. "I know a couple of good dive bars, and Damon took me to a club once that's just off of Route-81."

"I was thinking something a little further, actually," Caroline admitted as she merged onto the expressway. "A little quieter, more down-to-earth…" Elena looked at her quizzically. That didn't really sound like Caroline…

The blonde turned to look her friend right in the eyes.

"How exactly do I get to Willoughby, Pennsylvania?"

-0-

"How was your trip?"

Elijah smiled as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the antique coat stand. He still wasn't used to the concept of _coming home_ to Katerina. Frankly, he liked the idea that it would continue to be a pleasant surprise—for a long, long time.

"Somber," he responded, sitting down on the couch beside his girlfriend. "I haven't attended a funeral in over a century—it was no less dreadful than I remember."

"So, why did you go?" Katherine asked. They'd had this conversation before he left, when he'd announced he'd be in Mystic Falls for the weekend, but he hadn't been able to fully answer her, other than claiming it was out of duty. Lying to Katerina Petrova was never going to work, and they both knew it, but she hadn't pressed; just rolled her eyes and kissed him and then been a little huffy and peevish the morning he'd left. The truth was, he'd gone to confirm something—something he hadn't been sure of at the time he'd left for the service. Something he couldn't tell anyone—not even her—until he _was_ sure. It had nagged at him, when he'd first returned to Mystic Falls to hunt Klaus, but he'd disregarded it; even if it was true, it was hardly relevant at the time.

But then, at the service yesterday, there she was. Two decades younger, immortalized in an image on Caroline's memorial slideshow, and undoubtedly exactly who he'd begun to suspect she was.

"As it turns out, I knew her," he admitted. "I moved her to Mystic Falls in the early nineteen-nineties, and then I compelled her to forget that she'd ever met me.

After I took her from her home one night in early summer, and killed half her family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We tend to forget sometimes that Elijah's an Original too. Remember in Season 2 when he ripped people's hearts out left and right, and we thought of him as a super-scary villain? But then we got to know him, and he turned out to be really nice and gentlemanly. I will say, though, I'm a huge Elijah fan. He has more to do with this story than we realize. But that might not become relevant for some time—we're still finishing up some canon plotlines, although I've started to introduce the background info for my own original plotline, which will kick off… (looks at outline, counts on fingers) yeah, right about that many chapters from now. ;-)
> 
> I tend to assume that everyone knows the random mythology stuff that I do because I read it when I was a kid—and also because I enjoy the original Percy Jackson series, hehe. But, just in case any of you aren't familiar with the story…
> 
> *Trojan Horse: during the Trojan War—according to legend—the Greeks were trying to get into the city of Troy, but just couldn't seem to breach the defenses. So they built a gigantic wooden horse statue, left it at the gates, and retreated. The Trojans, believing the Greeks were giving up and had left the horse as an apology gift, brought it into the walls of the city and threw a party. That night, the Greek soldiers—hidden within the horse, which was completely hollow—attacked the city from the inside. That's also where the phrase comes from, "beware of Greeks bearing gifts."


	21. Strange Bedfellows

"Silas demanded I bring him the cure, prove that I'll cooperate with him," Caroline explained as the car carrying herself and Elena towards Pennsylvania shot down the expressway at 85 miles per hour. "Bonnie wants me to get Quetsiya's tombstone, and since Silas expects me to leave town anyway to get the cure, he won't suspect anything when I'm gone for a few days."

"Bonnie didn't mention any plan stuff to me," Elena said softly. Caroline knew Elena was having some trouble adjusting to having her emotions back on and dealing with the fallout of her months of craziness. Ordinarily, Bonnie would have kept her up to speed about this sort of thing, but—as far as Elena knew—she was out of the habit.

"It's because Silas can't get into my head," Caroline explained quickly. "She doesn't want him to know she's potting against him."

"Oh," Elena responded, sounding a little better. "That makes sense. But then, why am I here?"

"Officially," Caroline admitted carefully, "you're here to make sure I come home. Ever since… well, the idea of just getting into my car, burning rubber down the highway and never looking back has had a lot of appeal for the last couple of days." Elena nodded. Obviously, she didn't need any explanations about grief coping mechanisms.

"Officially?" she repeated after a moment. Caroline swallowed silently. This was the moment of truth, right here.

"I need your help," she announced.

"Okay," Elena agreed immediately, "whatever you need." Caroline smirked for a moment, thinking about someone else who had basically told her the same thing less than an hour ago.

"Don't agree until you know what I'm asking," she warned. "You're not going to like it."

"Okay, so tell me," Elena pressed. Caroline recognized the hunger in her eyes—the need to be able to do something about the situation and mess of emotions roiling around inside her. It was a sensation so familiar to the blonde vampire that it was almost like a default reaction. Elena had been dealing with everything surprisingly well since she flipped her switch back on, but she was still hanging on for dear life as she rode the emotional roller-coaster. She was desperate for an outlet.

"I can tell you the plan, but you can't remember it or what you did to help when we get back home," Caroline explained all in a rush. A few seconds passed, filled with high-pitched road noise and the sound of a faraway car horn, mixing strangely with the water-park ad playing quietly on the radio.

"Someone's going to compel me to forget all of this when we get back," Elena realized quietly.

"Only if you consent!" Caroline exclaimed hurriedly. "That's why I'm telling you about that part first. If you're not okay with it, then I'll shut my mouth, turn up the radio and discuss celebrity gossip for the rest of this trip. I have vervain in the glove box—nobody has to go into your mind without your permission."

The seconds stretched into first one minute, then two. Caroline knew she couldn't push this—she was asking her recently-returned-from-the-edge-of-crazy best friend to agree to a serious violation of her free will; one that Caroline herself had nearly clawed Klaus's eyes out for not too many weeks ago. Elena _had_ to make up her own mind. That was the only way this would ever even approach the realm of 'okay.' If she needed the rest of the six-hour drive to do it, then that was how it was going to be.

"I'll do it."

Caroline almost ran them off the road.

"That was fast," she blurted out once she'd gotten them safely back into their lane and sped past the other angry drivers flipping her off.

"Silas sank his fangs into my little brother's flesh, drained the life out of him, and snapped his neck when he was done," Elena stated venomously. "If there's _anything_ I can do to make him suffer for it, I'll do it. Tell me the plan." There it was—the overwhelming, single-minded emotion that a newly-flipped vampire would always focus on. Stefan had mentioned that he wasn't sure what she'd channeled into, since she was acting semi-normal but distracted. Apparently, hatred had won the day.

That was good. It was a sentiment Caroline unequivocally shared. She knew her eyes were dark with rage and a hunger for vengeance as she smiled.

"Remember the good old days, with Katherine in the tomb, when we needed to immobilize her for a little while?" she said smoothly.

"Yeah," Elena nodded, "I also remember Bonnie telling me how badly it backfired. What's your point, Caroline?"

"I want to immobilize Silas with the same spell," Caroline explained in as cool and business-like a voice as she could, trying to steer the conversation away from her friend's loss and towards what they were going to do about avenging it. "If he's unconscious, he can't use his mind-control."

"But it only lasts for a few seconds—a minute at most," Elena protested. "What can we do to him in a minute that will make any difference? The guy's indestructible."

"Yes," Caroline agreed, opening up the compartment in the armrest between them. "Yes he is."

Elena's eyes flitted to the contents of the armrest, then she did a double-take, realizing the implication of her friend's words.

"Care," she said quietly, "I hate to play devil's advocate—and he killed my brother, so _I'm_ good with this, just so you know..."

"But," Caroline supplied for her.

"But," Elena echoed, "last I checked, you were the one who said 'this is the line, and we don't cross it.'"

"That was Tyler, not me," Caroline shot back, closing the armrest and leaning her elbow on it nonchalantly. "Silas killed my mother. The line is officially crossed." Elena nodded, not questioning that.

"So, how do we do this?"

-0-

The staff of the Mikaelson mansion were, to a person, compelled not to think anything was amiss with any action performed by their master. That particular injunction was just good sense. It prevented them from putting too many things together, from gossiping amongst themselves when they might be overheard, and from questioning anything that Klaus did. That meant that when the maids had cleaned up the twelve vampire corpses and soaked the blood out of Caroline's carpet, they hadn't felt it the least bit odd.

It also meant that Alphonse didn't even bat an eyelash when Klaus basically took over his kitchen and started cooking for the first time since the chef had been employed there.

Klaus never needed to make his own food—he was rich, he was a vampire, and even on Al's day off, Coleen and Amber and Hazel were perfectly capable of keeping him fed. However, he'd meant what he'd said to Stefan when he'd been in Alaric's body: chopping was an incredibly calming task.

When he actually stopped to think about it, he reflected that it was probably a holdover from his human days. A lingering feeling that having a blade in his hand made him powerful, kept him safe. For a vampire, particularly a hybrid, the idea of wielding a weapon was ludicrous—it would not only be of little use to him in a fight, but it would probably get in the way, in the end. However, on the rare occasions when he prepared his own food, he always enjoyed the feel of cutting things up.

Caroline had showered and left a few hours ago, to go do who-knew-what about the Silas problem. She'd probably gone to fetch the tombstone like Bonnie had wanted; naturally, her friend's safety would be her first priority, and it would explain why she took Elena with, since Elena had been there when they'd located Katherine, who was the last one seen with it…

The heavy cleaver sliced right through the handful of carrots, and the orange ends went flying, along with a substantial piece of the cutting board.

Damn it all to hell, he had to stop figuring out what she was doing!

That was his dilemma, he reflected grumpily as he retrieved and tossed the bits of vegetable and wood, and grabbed another cutting board out of the cabinet. He couldn't be involved in whatever Caroline was doing, because Silas would see it in his mind. He had most of his vampire minions scouting around, but they likely wouldn't find the bastard, since he could look like anyone at any time. He'd sent them to the kinds of places he himself would go if he'd taken over someone's body to be anonymous, but it was disheartening that even if he went himself and came face to face with him, unless Silas wanted to be seen, Klaus could have an entire conversation with him and never know it.

Hunting down a wraith who could control your every waking thought was tricky business.

Using the back of the knife—which had held up remarkably well in its encounter with the smooth granite countertop—he swept the chopped vegetables into a large glass bowl and then turned to retrieve a large slab of beef from the refrigerator.

He was trying not to be reminded of the Hunter's Curse, but that was the most similar situation he could remember. The enemy was within, the enemy was without, but they weren't always in the same place, and if he lashed out in the wrong direction… He remembered one time when, after about a month in the throes of the curse, he hadn't realized that the phantoms around him were real this time, and by the time Elijah had turned up and killed them all—ordinary vampires wanting revenge for some offense Klaus had long ago forgotten—he was on the floor in a pool of his own blood, sobbing like a fool because the whole time he'd been seeing his mother, beating and stabbing him as revenge for murdering her. A year later, he'd tried to rip Rebekah's heart out, believing she was Mikael.

A drop of blood hit the floor with a tiny splash, and Klaus looked down to realize that he'd crumpled the knife up in his hand like paper, but in doing so had cut himself. How irritating. He tossed the mutilated handful of metal into the trash on top of the cutting board and ruined carrots, and rinsed the blood from his already healed hand. Those weren't memories he revisited often revisited, but ever since he became aware of what Silas could do, he'd been thinking about it more and more. It didn't help that he'd just learned that Silas had managed to force him to _break Caroline's arm_ , and he didn't even remember it. That was much too similar to the way the Hunter's Curse had affected him for comfort. It… unsettled him.

He needed Silas to be dead. He needed to rip him into little pieces—kill him like Stefan would if he was on a real ripper-bender, slowly, holding the immortal's life in his hands and then tearing it away, bit by bit. He'd hurt Caroline, killed her mother, tortured and mocked Klaus himself… Silas desperately needed to die.

Klaus had spies in every hospital and blood bank for 30 leagues, and many other places as well, but he knew it likely wouldn't do much good, thanks to Silas's mind control. However, he hadn't bothered compelling any of his people to forget what they were doing or anything clever like that; he wasn't trying to find him.

He was trying to smoke him out.

Terry had placed protective enchantments on the house similar to the way it would be if it was owned by a human; all supernatural creatures had to be invited in by name by the owner—in this case, Klaus. If he could annoy Silas enough with the simply tracking attempts, hopefully Silas would come to him, seeking revenge. No matter who he looked like, he wouldn't be able to cross the threshold if he didn't reveal himself. Then… truth be told, Klaus wasn't sure what came next. There wasn't much point in planning ahead when his enemy would be immediately able to see the plan. Besides, what was the good of being a werewolf if he couldn't rely on instinct sometimes?

He knew that ultimately, what he was doing wouldn't be worth much, but it went completely against his nature to sit back and let anyone—especially someone he loved—do all the violent stuff. Perhaps he couldn't be involved in whatever endgame the clever blonde hand in mind, but one thing he could do was get Silas's attention, get him to focus on fighting Klaus, rather than suspect whatever the girls might be up too.

Unfortunately, there was one sure-fire way to do that, but unless he wanted to alienate Caroline forever, that plan would have to be categorized as "unwise." After all, she really would hate him forever if he killed Bonnie…

It was probably a bad thing that he was abstaining from such an admittedly good idea just because of Caroline Forbes, but even though he knew immediately that it was a wise plan, he'd never been able to seriously entertain it. Doing bad things to good people was in his nature, and that didn't really bother him, but he wouldn't— _couldn't_ —hurt Caroline like that. Particularly on the heels of her mother's funeral. So, there was nothing else for it—his own neck would have to go onto the block this time.

He continued to make beef stew while he waited for what would hopefully at least be a moderately interesting showdown with the oldest immortal in the history of time.

-0-

_Oh don't you dare look back_

_Just keep your eyes on me_

_I said "You're holding back"_

_She said, "Shut up and dance with me."_

Caroline inched the volume up on the radio, a smile unconsciously spreading across her face as she recognized the song.

"I like this one," Elena commented, and Caroline nodded in agreement. Her mood lifted just from hearing the opening notes. Something about a flashback to her first modern-style dance with a certain somebody…

Of course, then her mood dropped again. They'd danced, they'd talked, they'd made out, and she was pretty sure it was her best first kiss ever. Ignoring the obvious downsides to that night, her time with Klaus had been pretty incredible. And then, when everything did go to hell in a handbasket, he'd been there for her, no matter what she needed or when she needed it. But…

It felt like some kind of betrayal of her mother's memory to be thinking about this stuff _now_ , but true to her habit, she was sheltering her mind by focusing on things she could do something about. Boy trouble was one such thing—or would be, if she _knew_ what to do. They hadn't really talked about, well, _them_ , other than her comment when they'd been going through her attic. He hadn't pressed, and she'd been deeply grateful for that.

Now that her mind was in pick-your-battles mode, it was doing all the pressing he'd ever need. They'd slept in the same bed last night, she'd been grabbing him at every opportunity—granted, with excellent reason. She knew he loved her, and he knew she had feelings for him. He made her happy, he made her feel safe, he made her feel adored and appreciated in a way that she'd never experience before. The rest should be simple, right? Should come naturally.

Except, it wasn't. She'd called him her boyfriend in her head, but they hadn't said word-one about it, and she couldn't go there, not yet. Her mom had just died, and every emotion she felt—good, bad, neutral—tied into that somehow. Silas was still out there, and if she was going to focus on anything to avoid her grief, she _should_ be focusing on taking him down. It was just good sense to take a step back until things calmed down and she could think—sort out how she felt.

And there inlay the problem. He was an adult man, and she knew he wanted her, and had for a long time. She knew she couldn't start something like that—not now, not yet. She needed time, to feel stable again, to feel whole again. Was it really right for her to be clinging to him and then turning around and denying him? She didn't know how long she'd have to make him wait—she'd just lost the last of her immediate family. That wasn't something one just got over and moved on.

But… she _needed_ him. He'd been her rock, during the funeral, and the night after. Already, as she'd contemplated which hotel she and Elena would be staying in for that night, the idea that he wouldn't be there frightened her. It was sort of ridiculous, of course, since she was a vampire, and she didn't have enemies in either Willoughby or DeKalb, but it wasn't really about his ability to defend her. It was just his presence, the unspoken understanding that he wasn't going anywhere. The sound of his voice—of his heartbeat.

She needed him.

But she sort of felt like she was using him.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

"You still on planet Earth?" Elena asked lightly, trying to 'be there to listen' without prying if Caroline didn't want to talk.

"Nope," Caroline responded with a little laugh, "my head just flew past Neptune. I think we should stop for lunch—you hungry?"

"Very," Elena responded.

That was the other problem with this whole mess. In any other situation—if Klaus had been any other guy on the face of the Earth—she could bring this to her gal-pals and get a little peer advice. But in this case…

'Hey, Elena, do you think I should rush into dating the guy who murdered you and your aunt and kidnapped your boyfriend to turn him back into a conscienceless ripper last spring?'

Yeah, _that_ would go over well. She couldn't deal with being in a fight with her best friend right then—not on top of everything else. It was moments like this that she really missed her dad. He'd always given such fantastic guy advice. She'd always assumed it was just because he _was_ one, but when he came out, his wealth of knowledge and sage council had made so much more sense.

'Hey, dad, since I'm the kind of blood-sucking monster that you hate most, do you think I should rush into dating an even more terrifying monster, who is, by the way, about fifty times my age?'

Maybe her dad wouldn't have been a good one to ask about this either...

A sign on the side of the road welcomed incoming traffic to the state of Maryland, which meant they were about halfway to their destination, according to Elena's directions and Caroline's phone. Caroline pulled into a rest stop, and the girls took advantage of the public restrooms, as well as the fact that the restrooms were camera-free, so they could safely do a little snatch-eat-erase. Afterwards, they ordered some fast food, lamenting the lack of a Starbucks at that particular oasis.

Elena drove the second leg while Caroline looked at maps and hotels between Willoughby, Pennsylvania and DeKalb, Illinois. After the horrid way the fast food had tasted to her quickly-getting-used-to-rich-people-food palate, she had no intention of staying anywhere crummy if she could help it.

It was around three in the afternoon when they entered the sleepy little town they'd been aiming for. Elena didn't want to see Katherine, and Caroline didn't need further explanation—the other doppelganger had fed Jeremy to Silas, and Elena didn't really want to ruin Caroline's master plan by brutally murdering her other self. So, Elena headed to the closest Starbucks after giving Caroline the address of the house Katherine had claimed was hers.

The place looked… _severely normal_. Caroline had gotten used to the idea that Katherine stayed either at 5-Star hotels or cute little historical places with Persian carpets and antique headboards. The plain metal siding and round-ish bushes lining the front walk really didn't scream "Katherine Pierce." Of course, that was the point—she'd originally been here incognito.

Caroline knew that Elijah had sent Katherine to hide with the cure, but Katherine was smart—devilishly smart. Of all the places in the world Silas would think to look for her, the very, very last one on his list would be the place she'd settled down and been discovered. No one would ever expect her to hide out here again so soon. And that line of thought was precisely what Caroline was banking on.

Caroline raised her hand and knocked on the door. A little piece of vampire etiquette she'd picked up was to try and avoid the doorbell; the sound was particularly piercing and irritating to enhanced hearing.

A few second passed during which she felt more than a little nervous and awkward. Maybe Katherine wasn't that smart. Or maybe, she was smarter. Or...

The door opened.

"Elijah!" she greeted the older man in surprise. Well, she had the right place, clearly.

"Hello, Caroline," he responded politely. "This is rather unexpected. What brings you to Pennsylvania?" He stepped back and turned a little, gesturing for her to enter, ever the gentleman.

"I'm actually looking for Katherine," Caroline explained.

"You've found her," Katherine called as she descended the stairs.

-0-

"Found my cure yet, hybrid?"

Silas stood in the doorway, not even pretending to hide himself. He was in Stefan's form, and the head of one of Klaus's henchmen swung lazily by the hair from the immortal's hand. Klaus approached the doorway, stopping when he was about four feet from the threshold—just out of Silas's reach.

"I mean, you've been trying so hard to reach me," Silas elaborated, "I just sort of assumed you must have gotten ahold of it. As far as I know, you aren't stupid enough to try and challenge me outright, otherwise I might've been offended at these pitiful excuses for stalkers you've had bumbling around trying to find me. I went ahead and gave you the benefit of the doubt—figured you were just so excited to give me the good news, and, well, I did neglect to leave a phone number."

"My, we are arrogant for someone who slept in a tomb longer than he lived as a man," Klaus shot back coolly. The one truly fantastic thing about all of this was that he now had an opponent for whom he did not have even the slightest shred of interest or respect, and therefore could freely and fully exercise the most sadistic parts of his mind, which he'd had to push down lately, between his budding relationship with Caroline and his uneasy truce with her friends. With Silas, he could revel in whatever discomfort he could bring the older immortal. And the best part was, since Silas could read his mind, he could see exactly how much Klaus enjoyed his pain.

True, Silas was digging up traumatic memories for Klaus, but two could play at that game, and Silas's life hadn't been exactly peachy. What was it like, to starve for two-thousand years, he wondered pointedly, and watched in amusement as a tiny spasm in the corner of Not-Stefan's eye gave away his reaction.

"Dangerous game, you're playing," Silas growled quietly.

"Says the fellow challenging the family that have run the supernatural world since the tenth century," Klaus shot back. "How many people have you even killed, Silas? Fifteen? Eighteen? Hardly preparation for the real slaughter you're inviting, by getting involved with me." On the word involved, he lashed out, his hand following the mindless, violent impulse of his werewolf side. His hand jabbed into Silas's gut with the most satisfying feeling of ripping through flesh. As he'd suspected, Silas couldn't read thoughts that weren't there. How unfortunate that he couldn't easily shift into a werewolf and attack him with teeth and claws…

"Nik?" Rebekah gasped, fear and pain and betrayal in her eyes. Even though he bloody _knew_ what Silas was doing, the suddenness of it shocked him just enough that his hand opened, and Silas was able to quickly pull away, remaining in Rebekah's form, with blood cascading down the front of a dress she'd worn in the twelfth century—the same one, in fact, that Klaus had ruined, believing she was a hallucination.

"What is it you imagine you can do to me?" Not-Rebekah demanded with a laugh in her voice. "I am truly immortal—I do not even have weaknesses like vervain, sunlight and oak. You may be able to hurt me, but you can never kill me."

"Sometimes, hurting is worse," Klaus reminded him in a soft snarl. "And I happen to excel at doing that." Silas really shouldn't have chosen Rebekah's form. Klaus channeled memories of driving a dagger into her chest as he attacked again.

Caroline was right—Silas was slow, and weak. He only avoided losing his heart by creating illusions of Mikael and Finn, who came at Klaus from behind, distracting him just enough for Silas to dodge out of the way. Klaus slashed through both illusions with the force he'd use to rip two actual people in half, and they vanished as soon as he connected. That was a fantastic discovery: They couldn't touch him if he didn't believe they were real. He turned, and without missing a beat, thrust his fist right through Not-Stefan's chest.

"You may… be right," Silas hacked out, along with a mouthful of blood and bile. "But… like you said, two… can play that game."

Every nerve in Klaus's body was on fire, and a shudder ran through him, but he yanked Not-Stefan off balance and wrapped an arm around his throat, choking him. For several long moments, it was a contest of who could stand the agony longer, and they grappled on the doorstep. Then Andrew, pruning shears in hand, came walking around the corner, and froze when he saw the two men caught in an embrace of death.

Since he, like the other members of Klaus's staff, was compelled not to think anything around there was odd, he stood and contemplated for a moment before turning to walk away, not wanting to disturb them. But then Silas reached out a hand and beckoned him, and he turned back and walked over to the two immortals, face blank, eyes emotionless.

"Leave, Andrew," Klaus gritted out, but as his eyes widened to compel his gardener, Silas's fist clenched, and Andrew's eyes snapped shut. Since Klaus hadn't originally compelled him to simply obey every order he gave, Silas's mind-control could easily prevent further compulsion by the simple expedient of keeping the man blind. Andrew opened the large, heavy tree-shears and brought them forward to cut into Klaus's forearm. Not wanting to lose a limb, Klaus released his other arm to block the blow, but Silas twisted sideways, gripped Klaus's wrist, and wrestled him to the ground, using the phantom pain to keep the younger immortal weak and distracted.

"That's better," Silas announced, kneeling with his knee jammed into Klaus's back, and twisting his arm behind him so that leverage kept him down. "So, I wonder, what exactly were you thinking, drawing me out, attacking me? This was never going to do you any good, and you aren't the type to waste his time. Unless, of course, you just wanted me to come here and fight you.

Instead of, say, tracking down Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert and stopping them from bringing Bonnie Bennett the tombstone."

That was precisely what Klaus had been trying to do, and there was no way he could lie with his thoughts now, when he didn't have time to distract himself.

"Oh, don't beat yourself up," Silas added, mock-soothingly. "I already knew that part anyway. I was just messing with you. But, you see, I don't have to track them down and stop them because, guess what? They aren't going after the tombstone at all. They're going to find me my cure, like I asked. Love, you see, is a vampire's greatest weakness, and that little blonde thing is no exception. I don't have to see her mind to know that her mom is the person she loves most in this world. She'll do anything to get her back—even help me.

See, she isn't the type to be motivated by revenge—not over her love for her only living family. And the best part is, you can't even confront her about it, because if I'm wrong, then you'll have screwed up whatever pitiful, insignificant chance you might have at taking me down."

Klaus tensed his shoulder and rolled, hard. The sound of ripping flesh and tendons mingled with the wet squish of his remaining hand digging into Silas's chest and crushing his heart. That should shut him up for a little while, at least.

Then Andrew, a look of surprise and confusion frozen on his face, toppled lifeless off of Klaus, and lay motionless in the growing pool of the Original's blood. Wild-eyed, Klaus looked around, but Silas was nowhere to be seen. The faint echo of a laugh—Stefan's laugh—reached Klaus's ears, but he got the feeling it wasn't something he was actually hearing in real-time.

It took a little effort to push Andrew's corpse off of him and sit up. The stump of his arm was bleeding; his body wouldn't waste energy closing the wound while it was trying to regrow the bone and muscles, so he knew he'd bleed freely until his own repaired skin sealed at his fingertips.

Well, _damn_ , he thought in exhaustion. All that restraint on his part, and his shrubs were doomed after all. Wearily, he trudged back into the house, called some vampire minions to take care of Andrew's body, and flopped onto the couch to wait for his arm to grow back.

-0-

Dressed in her designer jeans and expensive blouse, with her hair perfectly curled and her makeup flawlessly applied, Katherine looked even more out of place in the completely ordinary house than Caroline had first imagined. She sat on the couch like it was a throne—or at least a piece made of leather, located in a mansion somewhere—legs crossed to show off her high-heeled demi-boots.

"Sounds like a pretty gutsy plan, at least," she commented blandly as Caroline finished explaining what she was about to attempt. "So, what kind of brain damage do you have that keeps the big bad Silas at bay?" Caroline rolled her eyes, and she saw Elijah shoot Katherine a disparaging look, which she pointedly ignored.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she responded sweetly. "The point is, I need something of his for the spell. The others described the cure as being a little glass vial, and it lasted without breaking for two-thousand years. I'm assuming it was in something?" Katherine nodded.

"A little wooden box," she admitted. "But technically, the box and the cure are Quetsiya's, aren't they?"

"Well, he held onto them in a death grip for a pretty damn long time," Caroline explained. "And when he was talking to me, he called it 'his cure' repeatedly. I think he feels ownership. Should be good enough. And, really, it's the best we're going to get." She sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair.

"Tombstone, I got," Katherine announced after a pause. "Box, I got. Cure, you're not touching." Caroline's eyes snapped up to her face.

"I don't need it," she responded immediately, shaking her head. The last thing she needed was Silas getting his hands on the cure and taking it. If her plan worked, they wouldn't need it to take him down, and they could still give it to Elena—talk about a win-win. "Just the tombstone and the box." Let Silas find his own damn cure if the plan failed.

"I keep all of that stuff in a safe place," Katherine announced, making to stand up, but Elijah beat her to it.

"I'm happy to fetch them," he said, and she sat back down, smiling up at him.

"He really is a nice guy, right down to the bone, isn't he?" Caroline observed after the Original had headed out to Katherine's mysterious "safe place."

"Oh, very much so," Katherine responded with uncharacteristic sincerity. Then, silence roared. It was unutterably awkward, being in the same room without any particular reason or predetermined conversational topic. Katherine had killed her, then threatened people she cared about to get her to cooperate. Caroline had risen above her fear and helped the Salvatores put Katherine back in her place, and ever since then, she really hadn't been scared of the other vampire. She was really just kind of irritated by her. How far was the secret hiding place, and how long would it take Elijah to get there and return? She should've said she was going to wait at Starbucks with Elena…

"So, have any good sex lately?" Katherine asked lightly, clearly trying to break the ice.

Caroline wasn't sure if she should blow up laughing, throw something, or burst into tears given her topic of angst for the day. She settled for burying her face in her arms and groaning.

"Whoa, that was some reaction," Katherine observed. "Sore subject?"

"A little," Caroline grumbled.

"Fantastic—spill!" Katherine demanded with a grin.

Caroline wasn't entirely sure what possessed her to respond the way she did. It might've been a combination of Katherine's resemblance to Elena and the fact that Caroline was desperate for girl talk on the subject. It might've been the fact that even though she predicted Katherine would judge her just as much as anybody else would, she just really didn't give a single crap about being judged by someone she disliked so much. I might simply have been the fact—unlike with most other people—the idea of Katherine squirming in displeasure at the thought of Klaus being happy actually gave Caroline a lot of vindictive joy.

Whatever the case ultimately was, her mouth opened, and words started pouring out. She and Klaus were in love—well, probably. Her mom was dead, Silas was loose, and she was only just back on speaking terms with Elena. This was a bad time to start a relationship. But she didn't want to keep him waiting—string him along indefinitely. She didn't want to rush herself, either. But neither did she want to let him go.

Katherine's look of blank shock and horror when she realized what and who Caroline was talking about was priceless, but after the blonde had gotten a few sentences in, the doppelganger's look became thoughtful. Once Caroline had admitted that last, most frustrating part, she sighed again, realizing what all she'd just admitted aloud and to whom. Silence roared again for a long moment.

"Well, first of all," Katherine started matter-of-factly, "Klaus is a bad person. A very bad person, who destroys people's lives and kills and tortures for fun. He probably _boils puppies alive and eats them_. But," she added, holding up her hand to forestall Caroline's indignant response, "second, _if_ we were to set that aside and assume we were talking about an actual good person who was actually worth all this trouble and stress, I feel the need to remind you that he is _a thousand years_ old. You're too young to really get this, but around the two-hundred-year mark, your perception of time shifts pretty radically. He may not be so good at impulse control, but his idea of waiting for something—or someone—is probably pretty different than yours.

Finally, and this applies to all men in all situations, a piece of life advice from Kathrine Pierce: _Do what's right for you_. If he's worth it, he'll wait. If she doesn't, he's not worth it. If he loves you like you think he does, he won't push you into anything, and he won't want you to jump in if you aren't ready.

Of course," she added vehemently, "this is Klaus we're talking about, and he _isn't_ worth it, and you should get out while you still can. But, there it is—the first and last maternal advice I'll ever give."

-0-

Somewhere far away, a woman with long, wavy brown hair sneezed loudly.

"Bless you," her boyfriend said out of habit. "I didn't know vampires could catch cold, Nadia," he teased. She rolled her eyes at him.

"They can't, Gregor," she responded. "Somebody's probably just talking about me."

-0-

Once the awkward girl-bonding was over, Caroline asked for some paper and a pen, and started working on the letter she needed to write for Elena. It had to be precisely perfect, since Klaus couldn't know the contents to compel her friend in any specific ways. One slip-up, and it Silas would make sure it was curtains for the lot of them. Needless to say, she crumpled up and tossed several drafts.

By the time she got it right, Elijah had returned, tombstone in a heavy leather satchel, and the box in his hand. Caroline folded her finished letter carefully, slid it into an envelope Katherine gave her, and stowed it in her purse. She thanked the Original and his girlfriend, and headed back to the coffee shop to find Elena.

One stop down, one to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify: Silas switched places with Andrew while he was spinning Klaus around, and used his powers to keep Klaus from noticing. Andrew was able to hold Klaus down because he had leverage on his side. He had Klaus in an arm-lock, and Silas was preventing him from letting go. Since Klaus's joint was locked up, basically his own strength was being used against him, so he ripped his own arm off when he twisted free. I know it seems a little weird since we read it from his perspective—how could a human rip a limb off of somebody with their bare hands? So, there you go.


	22. Trust

" _You had_ one _job," Not-Stefan hissed menacingly. "Bring me the cure—that's all I asked. Bring me the cure, I get out of your hair, you get your mother back… But you had to cross me."_

" _I'm sorry—I'M SORRY!" Caroline wailed, struggling against the cement-like blackness settling in around her, restricting her movements. "Please, just let her go!"_

" _Why?" Silas asked coolly, yanking Bonnie up by the hair so that Caroline could see her battered face, and the blood running freely from her many wounds. "She betrayed me too, and now I have to go find another witch. Why should she get to live?" His hand, already slick with Bonnie's blood, wrapped around the witch's hand and clenched, breaking her fingers with a series of sickening cracks. Bonnie screamed raggedly, and Caroline continued to struggle futilely against her bonds. She opened her mouth to speak—to beg and plead on her friend's behalf, to offer anything Silas wanted in exchange for her life. But her voice made no sound, not even a strangled squeak._

" _As I thought," Silas murmured. "You don't really care enough to save her…" Caroline was trying with every fiber of her being to scream that she_ did _care enough, that she'd give him anything he wanted, that he should take her instead, torture her, kill her, just let Bonnie go. But still, no sound escaped her mouth. Tears ran in silent torrents down her face._

_Silas released Bonnie's hair and hand, but before she could slump to the ground, he caught her by the shoulder and the back of the head._

_He twisted._

Caroline awoke, body frozen in horror, the image of Bonnie with her neck broken still hovering in stark depiction over her vision of the hotel room ceiling. The blonde vampire pressed a hand to her mouth, holding her breath to keep from hyperventilating and waking Elena, who was sound asleep in the next bed. It was just a dream. Not real. Bonnie was alive and well, and waiting for her to turn up with a big ugly sphere of rock.

Once she'd gotten ahold of herself enough to move, she stood up and silently flitted to the mini-fridge where the hotel had provided several bottles of Fiji Water. The fancy alarm clock on the table between the beds projected the time—11:43pm—onto a piece of vertical glass, so in the nighttime gloom the numbers appeared to be floating in mid-air. She'd only slept for an hour.

She quietly opened up the water bottle and drank down the whole thing, letting the cool, pure liquid run through her, contrasting the sweat and restless energy leftover from her nightmare. She seriously considered taking a shower, but that would no doubt wake Elena, and since the dream had been about the death of someone they both cared about, she didn't want her to know—there was no point freaking her out over something that hadn't even happened. She finished the last swallow of water, and then shivered, feeling clammy from the sweat and the sudden cold. It woke her up further, though, and helped her feel grounded in reality.

It was obvious what was going on. She was traumatized over her mother's murder, and since she wasn't letting herself dwell on it, her subconscious was taking that fear and horror and pain and applying it to others that she feared losing. Once she'd identified the issue, it was easier to set it aside, but she glanced at her bed—still neat; apparently she hadn't tossed and turned—and immediately slipped out into the living-room area of the suite. She couldn't go back to sleep yet. If she closed her eyes, all of her cleverness and rationalization would melt away, and she'd be defenseless against the fear that lurked in the back of her mind, threatening to overwhelm her.

It didn't help that it was so incredibly weird not to have called home earlier that night to let her mom know she was at a hotel in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Nobody was going to be checking up on her anymore, to make sure she hadn't gotten into her car and driven halfway across the country… A few silent tears trickled down her face, and she let them come; there was no one to see her cry tonight.

After a few minutes, she slipped back into the room and grabbed her phone, figuring that wasting a little time on social media might be an excellent, brain-calming exercise. She slipped behind the window curtains and sat on the wide ledge, looking down at the city lights and streams of white and red dots in sets of two that indicated oncoming and outgoing traffic.

This was the second time in her life she'd been so far from home. The first time, she'd been with Tyler, and they'd stayed in a little historic Bed & Breakfast in DeKalb. The first time, she'd had to tell her mom she was staying over at Elena's, and Tyler had had to tell his that he was staying over at Matt's. If either mother had found out, they would have assumed that the two of them were together—as in, _together_. The sad thing was, at the time, they would've been dead wrong. All they were doing was driving four states away and visiting a powerful witch to investigate a magical cure for werewolf transformation aftershocks; nothing _nearly_ as _awful_ as running off to have sex…

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, willing herself not to get nostalgic. Nostalgia led to sadness, thinking about her sadness might trigger another dream, and she didn't really want to fall asleep behind the wheel tomorrow and cause a pile-up. She unlocked her phone, and checked her unread messages. She had three from Klaus.

10:38pm: _Still awake, love? The moon is lovely tonight._

10:51pm: _What do mortals see in hockey? I turned on the game, and can't seem to figure out the allure._

11:27pm _: Having a bloody awful day—would love to hear your voice._

Caroline smiled at the endearment in the first message, and at the random topic of the second, but the third one made her glance thoughtfully at the time on her phone display. 11:50pm… A little over twenty minutes after he'd last texted her. Would he still be awake? Probably, she decided; he was a vampire, after all, and even with daylight rings they tended to lean towards the nocturnal.

_Having a bloody awful day—would love to hear your voice._

Well, that made two of them.

She slid past the curtains and back into the room, grabbing her jacket from where she'd slung it over the couch, and heading quickly out into the hallway. Each floor of the hotel had a little lounge area, with couches and a television and some vending machines for the rich people with candy or soda habits. At that time of night on a week night, the place was deserted, and the television was off. She unlocked her phone again, clicked on Klaus's name in the message, and hit the call button.

-0-

Regrowing limbs was a long, excruciating process. Klaus had spent most of the day lying on the couch, cursing Silas to the deepest, darkest pits of hell, or whatever Quetsiya had spent the last two millennia planning for him on the Other Side—whichever was worse. When he took breaks from that, it was to watch in sick fascination as his humorous slowly lengthened, his elbow joint formed, and his radius and ulna grew outward from it. Once the bones were back in place, he knew the muscles, tendons and flesh would quickly cover them; it was the skeleton that took so much time to heal.

Throughout the course of the day, he'd completely ruined the couch and the carpet, and made a bit of a mess of Hazel's wrist; pain and injury and blood-loss made him remarkably thirsty. He'd used his left hand to operate his phone, distracting himself by shopping online for a new couch and rug. He also put out an ad for a new gardener. Then he laid back and stared listlessly out the window at the night sky, lamenting the fact that so few stars were visible in populated areas thanks to light pollution.

It was a little after that that he first messaged Caroline. He'd become so used to having her nearby, having her come home to him every evening, having her across from him at the table when he ate. He knew he couldn't ask where she was or what she was doing—wouldn't want Silas picking it out of his brain. But he just wanted to hear from her. "Still awake, love?" he asked, and then added as an afterthought, "The moon is lovely tonight."

Determined not to stalk his phone like an idiot, waiting for an answer, he switched on the television after a few minutes, and scrolled through the channels until he found a hockey game. He'd never actually been to one—a combination of lack of interest and a plethora of better things to do with his time. But Stefan had talked about it last summer and made it sound moderately interesting. Sitting on a blood-drenched couch, wiggling the newly-grown bones in his fingers, Klaus entirely failed to understand the appeal.

Caroline hadn't messaged him back yet. Not that he was stalking his phone. Not at all.

He sent her a second message. "What do mortals see in hockey? I turned on the game, and can't seem to figure out the allure."

Once the tips of his fingers solidified, muscles wove themselves together over the bones, and he gritted his teeth and clenched his left fist. This part was fast, but agonizing. Everything burned and stung, and a single tear escaped his eye. Finally, finally, skin formed over the newly-grown arm, and all of the tension drained out of Klaus's body. It still ached, and he knew from experience that the lingering pain would take an hour or so to go away, but it was better than having no arm there at all. He gave up on the hockey game and turned off the TV, wandering out onto the back porch.

All that work, and what had come of it, ultimately? His gardener was dead, his arm had been ripped off at the shoulder, and now he was burdened with the nagging fear about Caroline's intentions born of a thousand years' worth of paranoia, and sparked by Silas's words. It had been there, in the back of his mind, since she'd first told him about Silas's demand, but he'd been able to avoid it. Looking at her, hearing her voice, he couldn't believe she'd be a party to such a reprehensible plan, but now that she wasn't there, doubt swirled uncomfortably in his stomach. She'd lied to him and played him for a fool how many times now? He loved her, and nothing could ever change that, but his love for Rebekah and Kol didn't blind him to what they were capable of when riled. Was he being blind about Caroline?

He unlocked his phone and typed out another message. "Having a bloody awful day—would love to hear your voice." He contemplated it for a moment, and then sent it off, though without much hope she'd answer. At this point, she was probably asleep, wherever she was. As he'd suspected, there was no response, although he stood outside, breathing the night air and hoping she'd call, for five minutes, then ten, then twenty…

He was about to give up and go back inside when his phone buzzed, and Caroline's name flashed in bold across the screen.

"Evening, sweetheart," he greeted her, dimples showing as an involuntary smile crossed his lips.

"Hey," she responded. "Rough day?"

"A bit," he murmured. "How's yours?"

"Boring," she said softly, and he could hear that there was something she wasn't telling him, but he didn't press—she couldn't give him specifics about what she was doing, obviously. "So," she added with a bit of humor in her voice, "Why were you trying to watch hockey?" He laughed a little.

"Tragic boredom," he explained. "You're nowhere to be found, I'm between diabolical master plans, and not a single interesting person has tried to annoy me all day." Except for Silas, of course. But she didn't really need to know all the gory details of that one. "You've a particular talent for making trivial human things seem interesting and important—I figured you were the person to ask." He heard her quiet exhale of laughter, and turned to lean against the stone railing, tipping his head back to gaze at the waning sickle-moon hanging in the sky. Another twenty days until it would be full again, glowing silver rage onto the earth below…

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you with the hockey thing," she said regretfully. "I follow football and basketball—that's about as far as my knowledge goes. Although, there is something to be said for team sports and unity. You know, the teams represent a whole region, and even though most of us never meet them, we're all cheering them on and wanting them to do their best. And they have each other's backs, which is a skill we've all kind of forgotten."

Yes, yes they had—and he had too. Trust didn't come naturally to him; it never had, thanks to his childhood. Even though he and his siblings loved one another, they were often at each other's throats. Everyone he knew—well, everyone important—had betrayed him at least once. But he knew the same was true of Caroline, so perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps that was why he closed his eyes, and let go of the fear plaguing him. If there was anyone in the world he was going to trust…

"Still rather tedious to watch," he complained, not letting the pause become too long. She laughed again, a little louder, with a mocking edge.

"You know, your remote comes with these numbered buttons that let you change the channel," she teased.

"Yeah, well, I'm nothing if not tenacious," he shot back, dimples deepening again as he thought of her, and everything he'd done to try and win her. And ultimately, it wasn't any of that, but something he'd done believing she'd either hate him for it, or simply never know about it…

"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked quietly.

"Boxers—always boxers," he responded immediately, and he heard her snort with laughter and then try and cover the sound by holding the phone away from her face, and most likely clapping a hand to her mouth. "Ask away," he offered once he heard her intake of breath near the speaker that signaled she was about to give him crap for that.

"I'm a vampire," she started, "and as a vampire, I can understand why someone would _want_ to be a vampire. But, I've never been a werewolf, and from what I've seen, it isn't exactly rainbows and butterflies. I get the reason behind wanting to make more hybrids, but why did you want to be a wolf so badly in the first place?" her tone was curious, not accusing, not sarcastic; she just genuinely wanted to understand.

"Well," he began, exhaling thoughtfully, "do you remember how, when you turned, everything about you became heightened?"

"Oh yeah," she admitted, and he could hear the wince in her voice.

"Werewolves have powerful instincts," he continued. "They aren't ruled by anything but their alpha—they come and go as they please, they eat what they like, and nothing can stop them. And… they stick with their pack. They always have each other's backs," he added quietly, and then they both remained silent for a moment. "Those instincts—that need for freedom, and the urge to be with a pack—those were what heightened in me when I turned. But then they were sealed by the curse. I was trapped in one form, my mother turned her back on me, my father's hatred of me multiplied a hundred fold... In one fell swoop, I'd lost something that was the core of my identity.

For a thousand years, I ran for my life, always wanting two things—freedom, and family. And never really having either one. With seven-billion people in the world, and hundreds dead by my hand every year I lived, three more sacrifices seemed like nothing." And then there was the instinct to protect; the alpha drive to keep his pack safe. That drive had slowly grown stronger over the years, because it was something that hadn't been suppressed, but increased by Mikael's pursuit. And now, those urges had latched onto Caroline, whose existence had soothed the hurts of his other denied instincts…

"I was lucky," he murmured after a pause.

"How so?" she asked, probably still thinking about his mother cursing him.

"Lucky that Damon got you out in time," he admitted softly. Because if he'd killed her before he'd even met her… where would he be now? Seven-billion people in the world, and without just that one, his life now would be so drastically different. The perspective was terrifying. He chose not to dwell on it too much.

"Yeah," she agreed with a touch of sarcasm, " _I_ was pretty lucky that day, too." They both laughed briefly.

"Good point," he responded. Then he cast around for another subject. He didn't like thinking about her death. "So, what are your plans after you graduate? Harvard? Study abroad? You never did tell me, you know. Your hopes and dreams."

"Everything I want in life?" she finished for him, remembering the conversation.

"Everything," he echoed.

"Truth is," she admitted, "when I was human, I didn't know what I wanted to do—just that I wanted to do everything that was right in front of me right then—clubs, committees, college, community stuff…"

"No shortage of words beginning with the letter 'c,' I see," he teased.

"Shut up!" she exclaimed with a giggle. "It just came out that way—I don't do that on purpose!"

"Are you quite positive?" he checked playfully, "Because I seem to recall a certain application…"

"Oh, how did you even _get_ that?" she growled in mock-irritation. "Anyway… When I looked at the future, I couldn't think of any one thing I wanted to do for the rest of my life—I was so used to just trying to do _everything_. Then when I became a vampire… I realized I could. I can major in drama at Whitmore next year, and then after I graduate, I can go to Virginia Tech and major in something completely different. I can be everything I ever dreamed of, one after the other."

"Why start at Whitmore?" he asked, trying not to judge the school and just ask the honest question. "You're cleverer than you let on—you could easily get into an Ivy."

"I know," she agreed. "And I want to go Ivy-League later on. But Elena and Bonnie both have their hearts set on Whitmore, and the first time—Bonnie's only time—I really want to do this with them. They're my family." They both knew that she didn't have to elaborate on that one, and there was another moment of silence.

"I miss you," she finally admitted, and warmth spread through Klaus's body, tempering the cold feeling of his own that came from talking to her over the phone instead of being able to see her expression, hear her heartbeat, smell her scent.

"And I you, love," he responded.

"I should be home tomorrow night," she added after another charged moment. "I should probably go now, though. Don't want to fall asleep behind the wheel."

"Good idea," he replied, but he didn't want to hang up. It was the first time he'd really had a deep desire for the presence of a specific person who wasn't a member of his immediate family.

"Good night," she said softly.

"Good night," he echoed. Then before he could start acting like a complete idiot, playing a game of who-should-hang-up-first, he quickly disconnected the call.

He'd been right, earlier. It _wasn't_ in his nature to trust others—it was a conscious act. He had to _decide_ to trust Caroline. He stowed his phone in his pocket, and headed back inside to get ready for bed.

-0-

"Come on in," Nia said immediately as she opened up the apartment door to find Caroline and Elena in the hallway. "Sophie's still at work," she continued as the girls entered and quickly skirted the piles of shoes, hoodies, backpacks and other random clutter piled up in the entryway.

"Yeah, absent-minded witch and a messy werewolf living in close quarters makes for a pretty big mess," she added with a grimace.

"It's okay," Elena assured her, knowing that Caroline would feel like she was lying if she said anything positive about the housekeeping. "Thanks for inviting us into your home."

"No prob," Nia chuckled, "we're pretty vamp-friendly around here. Want anything of the non-blood variety to drink? I make a mean smoothie."

"Sure," Caroline agreed gratefully. She shot Elena a little smile—she remembered that Nia did indeed make a pretty good smoothie.

"Yes, please," Elena nodded.

-0-

"And what's this one called?"

"That's a Jade Plant," Sophie informed the student, sticking her fingers into the pot he held and gently mounding up the dirt a little higher out of habit. "It's a succulent, so it retains water—make sure you wait to give it more until the soil is dry. Stick your finger in up to the first knuckle—if it comes out damp, the plant's not thirsty yet."

The last of the beginning horticulture students joined the throng headed out after their professor into the hallway with their recently repotted cuttings, and Sophie began to tidy up the piles of rooting medium and potting soil and labeling sticks they'd left behind. Finally, all the noisy people were gone…

She slipped into the next room of the greenhouse, which had a higher temperature and was largely dedicated to cacti and other tropical plants. She sat down on the edge of a timber plant box and inhaled slowly, savoring the high oxygen levels and warm sunlight beating down on her through the transparent plastic ceiling. With her eyes closed and her senses alive, she could feel the calm pulse of life all around her—the steadfastness of the four-foot tall cacti, the perky adventurousness of the little aloe shoots, the vibrant dominance of the rubber tree.

She knew people said she liked plants more than humans. It didn't bother her—they were right.

Of course, that was when her damned cell phone rang. She rolled her eyes, digging the wretched thing out of her pocket. Owning it had been a condition of her being allowed to move out and go to college where she wanted too, instead of staying in Sedgwick, Colorado, near the Dalmira Clan main house. She looked at the caller name and grumbled to herself as she answered.

"Yes, I'm going to class, yes I'm getting to work on time, yes I'm eating my vegetables, no I'm not drinking," she listed dryly. "You don't have to keep checking up on me, aunt Contessa. I'm twenty-two years old."

"I'm not calling to check up on you," Contessa Dalmira assured her niece coolly. _Not this time,_ Sophie thought sulkily. "I'm calling to ask for your help as an expert." That was a new one. Sophie switched her phone to her other hand.

"I'm listening," she responded.

"When it comes to plants and magic, you're about the best there is. You take after your mom," she added, a bit more quietly. Sophie knew that Contessa had been close with her sister, Jane-Anne, but her mom had died when she was three, so she barely remembered her.

"I want to know if you can take a stick—a completely dead stick, that's had all the bark removed—and propagate a new tree from it," Contessa finished. Sophie considered that for a moment.

"How long's it been dead?" she asked, twirling her fingers and making a Wandering Jew plant extend its tendrils a little further towards her.

"Nineteen years," Contessa supplied immediately.

Sophie froze.

" _Nineteen_ years?" she echoed quietly.

Her aunt would know what she was really asking.

"Nineteen years," Contessa repeated, voice heavy with implications.

"Where was it stored?" Sophie asked, all business.

"Outdoors, near water," came the response. "It was part of a bridge over a river."

"I'll still need a serious power-source to jump-start it," Sophie warned as she stood up, dusting off her jeans.

"From what I've heard, it's already got one," Contessa informed her mysteriously.

"Interesting," Sophie murmured. "I'll take a look. Do you have it?"

"We'll get it," her aunt assured her. "We didn't want to take the risk if you said it wasn't possible."

"Get it to me," Sophie finished. "I'll take care of the rest." Then she disconnected the call and headed out of the greenhouse. Today was a fantastically interesting day. The chance to repopulate an extinct species of oak tree, and a meeting with that vampire girl—the one that she couldn't help staring at, because she looked so much like her aunt Ella. Of course, it wasn't possible they were related. The Dalmira were a huge family, but almost all of them had their roots in Colorado, at or near the Dalmira Estate. If this girl was in her bloodline, they'd have met before.

And besides, her aunt Ella had died that same horrible night as her parents and her aunt Gracia, her aunt Celeste and several of her uncles and cousins. She'd never had any children.

Shrugging off the weird coincidence, she turned her steps towards her apartment, wondering what spell Caroline Forbes wanted from her.


	23. Come Hell or High Water

Finals. Parties. Sunlit days. Spring rain. Eighteen days passed, during which school wound to a close, yearbooks were finalized, printed and bound, and Caroline Forbes returned to Mystic Falls and submerged herself in High School normalcy like her life depended on it. When she wasn't working on last-minute papers or reviewing flash cards with Matt and Elena—who were both sorely behind—she was working with the Yearbook committee, writing up reflections for next year's prom committee, and attending meetings for student societies and community youth and Klaus wasn't even sure what else.

When they'd arrived back in the state after their trip off the edge of the map, Caroline had called him and asked him to meet them at Whitmore College, since it was pretty far from town. They'd met in the parking lot, and Caroline reminded him of the favor he'd promised her.

"I wrote a letter to Elena," she explained, nodding towards her friend, who was eyeing him nervously. "I need you to compel her to obey everything in it—exactly as I instructed, without question. And also to forget that you compelled her," she added as an afterthought. She'd been right; what she wanted wasn't a big deal, and it did only take a few seconds. Elena read the letter immediately after he'd compelled her, and then ripped it to tiny pieces.

"Thanks," Caroline said quietly as Elena busied herself destroying her instructions as thoroughly as possible. "Now all we can do is wait—can't do much until he makes his next move."

"Would you like me to smoke him out?" Klaus offered, thinking of the previous day. It hadn't exactly been fun, but he could do it again if he needed too. Caroline shook her head.

"Thanks, but I'd rather he didn't get suspicious," she responded.

That was the last time they'd spoken of the subject. Actually, they'd hardly spoken at all over the last few weeks—she was hardly ever home, except to sleep. And when she did sleep…

He noticed she looked tired over her first couple of days back, but chose not to comment—she was running herself ragged with school stuff; of course she was tired. But after the first week, he started to notice how often she awoke in the middle of the night. There were a few days where he stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, painting or browsing the internet, and in the stillness of the house, his hearing would instinctively zone in on her breathing and pulse. At one-and-two-hour intervals, her heart would start to race madly, and then she'd wake with a start, sometimes get up, drink something, wash her face, and then return to bed, just to repeat the process. She was consistently having nightmares.

Klaus began to get into the habit of adding, "how did you sleep?" to his morning greeting, and she'd always respond with "fine, thanks," but she grew paler and paler as the days progressed. It wasn't in Klaus's nature to worry, but by now it didn't even surprise him when she'd evoke such human reactions in him, and concern took root in the back of his mind. Still, he didn't press the issue. If it was him in the same place, he knew he wouldn't want anyone else to see him so vulnerable.

-0-

Caroline, for her part, had plenty of things to worry about, and since it _was_ in her nature to stress, the anxiety was eating her away inside during every waking moment.

Elena was back on vervain, with no recollection of ever being off it, so if there were any issues with the instructions Caroline had written her, there was no chance she could get Klaus to "edit" them. What would be, would be, at this point.

Bonnie had started turning back up at school every few days, taking tests and handing in forged doctors' notes so that she could avoid Silas and graduate high school at the same time. Caroline didn't even want to think about what would happen when it came out that Silas was able to see her not-so-diabolical plan.

Since Elena and Damon were back on speaking terms—and _other_ good terms—Stefan was back to begin the odd man out. He was finding a great many excuses to hang out in places like the school library, up on the gymnasium roof, and the back room of The Grill—for the last of which, Matt had chewed him out pretty severely when he caught him lurking behind the dish rack for the third time. Caroline ate a lot of lunches with him, trying her best to keep being his sober sponsor despite all the chaos and destruction. Focusing on another person's problems distracted her healthily from her own. Unfortunately, she couldn't fix the root problem: the love of Stefan's life was shacking up with his brother.

And then, there were the dreams. Every night, she'd see visions of Silas torturing and slaughtering her loved ones, one after another. Every time she closed her eyes, he was there, like her mind wanted to show her in gratuitous detail what would happen if she failed.

Which brought her back to worrying about Elena…

Needless to say, Caroline regularly found herself partaking of a bit more of Klaus's fancy rich person Scotch than she normally would have.

" _You should have thought of this before you crossed me, Caroline…"_

_Silas held the silver-coated stake in his fingertips, rolling it back and forth as he reveled in Caroline's panic. Rebekah lay dead at his feet, Elijah was crumpled beside her, and Kol's charred left foot was just barely visible in the gloom surrounding the immortal. Klaus tried to drag himself up off the black ground, but he was so exhausted, so hurt… by the time he made it to his knees, Silas had strode jauntily over to him, and grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck._

" _I could've died and passed on like I wanted, but thanks to you, now I'm going to end your entire race," he sneered, holding the stake up in his fist. Klaus's eyes—bleary with pain and exhaustion and despair—met Caroline's, and it was almost like the expression caused her physical pain._

_Then Silas dropped his hand—driving the stake into Klaus's chest. The fire from his corpse surrounded them, consuming everything in its path…_

_Then Caroline was standing in an unfamiliar patch of forest, rooted to the spot, still burning while people milled around nearby, some watching the blaze, others going about their business. Klaus stood there, alive and healthy, watching her burn with his face stoic, his arms folded across his chest. She was screaming—wailing in pain and rage and betrayal—but he didn't even respond. Could he not hear her? Why would he let them do this to her? She screamed again as the fire reached her heart._

The shriek was brief, and cut off quickly when Caroline reflexively clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, but a brief piercing cry had escaped as she fell across the border between sleeping and waking. She tried to hold her breath and keep from panting, eyes darting around the room to assure herself that she was safe, she was alone, she wasn't on fire or surrounded by corpses. After a few seconds she had to breathe, and when she lowered her hand and desperately gulped in air, her exhales turned to sobs. She tried to control herself, but she just couldn't stop.

She knew she was being ridiculous. Witch burnings were a thing of the past, and Klaus was perfectly alive, perfectly healthy, perfectly… awake. She'd only been conscious for about thirty seconds, but she heard his footsteps—and she knew the tread was his—approaching down the hallway. She tried again to get ahold of herself, but she knew it was futile. The horror of the dream was still fresh in her brain, and she couldn't shake herself free of it—and certainly not in the time it took a vampire to get from one room in his house to another.

Klaus didn't knock—he opened the door silently, and crossed the room until he reached her bedside.

"Troubled mind?" he asked softly, although it was obviously a rhetorical question.

"Sorry," she said, meaning to sound annoyed at her dreams and apologetic towards him, but her voice broke, and it came out as a sort of distraught whimper. He sat down on the side of her bed, and even as she melted, trembling, into his arms, a tiny corner of her mind was still aware enough to wonder how they always ended up in this situation—one injured and sitting up in bed, the other there to give comfort. She wondered if it would ever get easier, more normal. Would they ever just _be_ , without a constant parade of magical psychos taking turns at making their lives hell?

"I'm okay," she said, but it sounded like the lie it was. "I was just dreaming. Sorry I woke you."

"'S all right," he assured her quietly. "I wasn't asleep. What did you dream of?" He ran his hand gently through her hair, and she tried to subtly fill her lungs with the scent of him.

"Silas," she murmured miserably. "He's killed pretty much everyone I know multiple times over the last few days." There really wasn't much either of them could say after that. Caroline didn't want to elaborate, and there was no comfort Klaus could offer that wouldn't sound like he was grasping at straws.

"Waiting for the ax to fall is the worst kind of torture," he whispered at last, and she nodded, not trusting her voice. She'd cried in front of him so many times lately, and didn't want to do it again over some phantom her mind had conjured up. He would understand, though, she reflected after a few moments of silence. After all, he'd been predator and prey all his life, between Katherine and Mikael…

"Do you want me to stay?" he murmured, and Caroline realized how tightly she was holding onto him, and how hard she was still trembling. A human would probably be uncomfortable in her grip, although she knew it wouldn't hurt a vampire. She let another moment pass, building her courage up to say no, that she was fine alone, that she knew it wasn't real, and wasn't so childish that she couldn't sleep by herself.

"Yes, please," she finally answered in a small voice.

Klaus released one of his arms from around her to pull back the covers, and they both slid sideways so he'd have room to lie down. Although she'd only spent one night in his arms, lying with her head on his chest and his thumb drawing soft patterns on her arm felt familiar and natural. Her hand rested on his shirt, a little in front of her face, and she focused in on the sound of his heartbeat—steady, healthy, alive. She was stiff at first, like she was subconsciously waiting for him to burn away to ash like he had in her dream, but as the minutes passed, she slowly relaxed. He was right there, radiating werewolf heat and breathing in an out under her ear. The white oak stake was hidden under lock and key somewhere far away, and Silas was too busy getting ready for the full moon to worry about getting revenge on them. Yet.

It took Caroline a while to fall back asleep, but when she did, it was deep and dreamless, unless one counted the constant, lingering rhythm of Klaus's heart.

-0-

" _So, how does this work, exactly?" Lexi asked, leaning up against a tree and watching Bonnie Bennett chant in an impressive-sounding voice in the middle of a clearing in the woods, hands turned palm-up to the sky, while, unseen by her, another witch knelt near where she stood, not saying anything, but just breathing deeply, with her hands pressed to the leaf-strewn ground. For several moments, her only response was more of Bonnie's chanting, and a cloud passing over the sun and then drifting away again._

" _Bonnie's using Expression to link up the three magical hot-spots where the sacrifices were conducted," an unfamiliar voice provided at last, and Lexi turned her head to see an older African-American woman with curly hair and shrewd eyes walk slowly into view. "Your little friend is using something we in the modern-juju world like to call piggy-backing, to create a powerful spell that draws on Bonnie's spell for power. Since Bonnie has access to enough energy to drop the veil all over the world, but she's only using enough to drop it within the triangle, there's plenty left over to run amok if someone doesn't use it up."_

" _Sheila Bennett, if I'm not mistaken," the younger ghost greeted the newcomer, standing up and making her way over to them. In the background, Bonnie finished her chant and leaned tiredly against a tree-stump to rest from the magical drain._

" _The one and only," Sheila responded, eyes taking in every detail of the girl's dimply face, curly brown hair, and ancient, homespun dress. "And you are… the oldest one—the child who died in the Old World—aren't you?"_

" _That's right," the girl replied. "Although the name that history and legend have both forgotten is Freya. Freya Mikaelsdottir."*_

-0-

The day after the funeral, Klaus had awoken first, but this time, as Caroline regained consciousness, he was still dead to the world. She lay still, not wanting to rouse him, and also not wanting to have to feel awkward about how much she enjoyed breathing his scent, listening to his pulse, and tracing the lines of his face—so young and calm in sleep—with her eyes. The sun was well up, but she didn't have to be anywhere until graduation rehearsal at noon.

She'd been stressing a lot about things between them, about the way she was making him—and herself—wait, but today, watching him sleep, she felt an aura of sorts of drowsy contentedness surrounding them. The words, " _It's okay to take it slow,_ " whispered quietly through her mind, and made a great deal of sense.

She settled down closer into him, and he shifted slightly to accommodate her without ever waking up.

-0-

" _If you want to contact anybody, you have to make sure you're inside the triangle when Bonnie catalyzes the spell," Freya warned Sheila and Lexi as they followed the oblivious Bennett witch to the burned skeleton of the Young Farm. "My barrier will come up the moment she drops the veil, and no ghosts from outside the triangle will be able to enter until the veil is restored."_

" _Concerned about anyone in particular?" Lexi asked, thinking privately about what she'd heard and seen of that Original Hunter guy—Mikael._

" _There are a few witches I need to keep out of this when it all comes to a head," Freya murmured. "And yes, one in particular." Sheila's face darkened, remembering the way Esther had channeled their family's bloodline, leading eventually to her daughter's transformation into a vampire._

-0-

"You're sure this wasn't you or anyone you know about?" Meredith asked quietly, eyes darting between Damon and Stefan and the five drained corpses, still lying in their hospital beds. Damon shook his head.

"No, I always take credit for killing people," he responded. "Your gut was right, Doc. This was Silas."

"He isn't even trying to hide," Stefan murmured thoughtfully as Meredith rolled her eyes at Damon's normal level of tact-deficiency. "It's like he's fueling up for something. Something big. But the next full moon isn't until tomorrow night," he added with a sigh. "Why would he binge so early? It doesn't make sense."

"Unless…" Damon responded, " _possibly_ , Bonnie didn't need a full moon at all to break the spell." Stefan and Meredith both scanned Damon's face, reading in his expression that he wasn't speaking hypothetically.

"He knows she's double-crossing him," Stefan realized aloud. "I gotta find her." He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed her number. To no one's great surprise, he immediately got her voicemail.

-0-

It was strange, Caroline reflected as the sun sank below the rooftops, casting the streets in deep, pre-night shadows, to think that a day that had begun so slowly and lazily could rush by so quickly and frantically. She'd gotten up around ten, showered and headed to school for graduation rehearsal, which she'd spent alternately worrying about Bonnie—who never showed up—and trying to figure out if over-the-counter sleep aids would work on her as a vampire. After she got done at the school, she headed over to The Grill for a last dinner with the cheer squad, dragging Elena with her, despite her friend's protests.

"We aren't going to get another chance to do this," she reminded her briskly. "It's important to have the human experiences while we can. Besides, it'll take our minds off all the stupid drama."

"So, instead of focusing on end-of-the-world, ghost-apocalypse drama," Elena interpreted slowly, "we're going to focus on high-school cheerleader, who's-sleeping-with-who and who's-wearing-what drama?"

"Exactly," Caroline agreed brightly as she held the restaurant door open for the brunette vampire. She didn't say aloud that she wanted to keep Elena as close as possible so that they'd be together when Silas turned up and everything hit the fan. Her plan could still work if Elena encountered him alone, but it would be better—and ease Caroline's control-freaky sensibilities—if they worked as a team.

As the last rays of sunlight vanished and the atmosphere outside the windows was dyed twilight-blue, the cheerleaders began to excuse themselves in twos and threes, to attend more parties, meet family at the airport, or celebrate privately with their significant others. Eventually it was just Elena and Caroline left, sipping their coffees and occasionally making comments about whatever came to mind.

Outside, the wind—which had been pretty strong all day—had whipped up into an eerie, howling frenzy. The front door of the Grill opened, letting in a powerful gust along with the figures of Stefan and Damon, before the older vampire shoved it closed again with some effort.

"How about this weather?" Matt commented as he passed their table, watching the Salvatore brothers' entrance.

"By the pricking of my thumbs," Rebekah commented ominously from the bar, in a voice only the other vampires in the room could hear. Caroline didn't miss the reference. A disturbing tension had settled around the whole place. She half expected the door to open again to reveal Silas, in the flesh.

"We've got a problem," Damon announced, sitting down next to Elena and stealing one of her fries.

"Silas attacked three area hospitals today," Stefan elaborated, sitting down heavily next to Caroline. "We think he figured out whatever Bonnie's planning against him and is gearing up to stop her." Caroline kept her face carefully on the spectrum of "worried," although her mind was rapidly calculating possibilities.

Silas already knew Bonnie's plans, so if he was getting ready to stop her, it was because she was about to make her play. Silas would be wherever Bonnie was. Bonnie was obviously using the tombstone that no one but Caroline knew she now had to drop the veil early, probably to either ask for help from her ancestors, or simply sic Quetsiya on Silas and hope for the best. So, according to what Caroline remembered from _Symbolic Figures in the Dark Arts_ , that put Bonnie in the center of the Expression Triangle.

Although she figured out all of that in about twelve seconds, she sat patiently waiting for the frantic discussion around her to reach the same conclusion. She couldn't let Elena—whose mind was still accessible to Silas—know she was on top of things, but she had to stick with her until this was all resolved.

"So where's the center, then?" Stefan asked, and Damon pulled out his phone to consult a map, just as the lights abruptly shut off around them. For a moment, the whole world consisted of nothing by chaotic voices and a few glowing rectangles suspended in midair, moving as people used them to look around. Then, just as Caroline's vision acclimated to the darkness, Matt switched on a flashlight he'd dug out from behind the bar, and a few more people activated their flashlight apps.

"I'm going to check the fuse box," Matt announced to his coworkers, and Rebekah wordlessly followed him, casting a nervous glance at the table full of vampires. They could all sense how very _off_ the night atmosphere was. Whatever was going to happen, it was starting to happen _now_.

"The school," Damon announced quietly, locking his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket. "The center of the triangle is the damn high school."

"What are we waiting for?" Stefan asked rhetorically, and all four immortals slid out of the booth and headed out the door.

Running at vampire speed in a buffeting wind was challenging, but they still made it to the school in record time. Certainly faster than they could've managed in a car. They split up, Elena and Damon circling the outside while Stefan and Caroline looked inside. Although Caroline wasn't keen on being separated from Elena, she knew it would be better if each of them only had to deal with one Salvatore brother. When things got messy, the guys needed to be far away from the blast radius, as it were… It was for that very reason that she hadn't called Klaus to tell him what was going on or where she was. There was a limit to how many people she could shake off her trail in a short space of time. Besides, the fewer readable minds they had with them, the better.

Although a voice from the tight knot of fear wound up in her stomach reminded her that she'd have felt so much braver if he was around…

"Where _are_ they?" She hissed in frustration after the twentieth empty room they peered into. "Damon sent us to the right place, right?"

"We're in the right place," Stefan murmured thoughtfully, shining his phone flashlight at a drain in the floor near Caroline's feet. "We're just at the wrong elevation."

"The tunnels," Caroline realized, eyes widening, and Stefan quickly shot off a text to his brother with the revelation.

-0-

"Son of a bitch," Damon exclaimed as he read the message.

"What is it?" Elena asked.

"Bonnie's doing the spell down in the caves under the school," he explained, leading her indoors and down the main hallway. "We gotta hurry."

"Yeah," Elena agreed. "I do."

Then she snapped Damon's neck in one fluid motion, and took off down the hallway, face emotionless.

-0-

"It's not that complicated," Bonnie explained, sitting down on a smooth bolder, the bleeding tombstone at her feet. "All I really have to do is get Quetsiya to do what she's wanted to do for two thousand years. I don't need the veil to be down everywhere to pull that off—I just need a temporary window here in Mystic Falls, so I can summon her."

"I see," Caroline responded approvingly, nodding.

"Okay Care, I need to concentrate now," Bonnie added, breathing deeply and closing her eyes.

"Okay, Bon," Not-Caroline agreed, allowing herself the smallest of smiles. It _was_ a simple plan. Too bad it wouldn't work. Humans really were the most incredible suckers, weren't they?

-0-

Damon groaned as his neck healed and he stretched out his aching spine. What had just happened? Why would Elena attack him? Had that been Elena, or was Silas using them to find Bonnie? In any case, something was going very, very wrong.

"Need a hand?" a familiar voice asked.

Damon looked up, and his eyes widened involuntarily. It wasn't like finding a history teacher in a high school was a terribly odd thing in itself. But finding a dead history teacher suddenly standing, in the flesh, in the middle of the hallway, was pretty exceptionally strange.

"So," he started after a stunned pause, "this is either really good, or _really_ bad." Alaric crouched down to his level and laughed. It was Alaric's laugh—just the way Damon remembered it. He couldn't decide if the experience was nostalgic or just creepy.

"It's good to see you too, Damon," he responded dryly.

"I'd say the feeling is mutual," Damon continued, "except a lot of people aren't exactly who they say they are around here." How was he supposed to tell? If this was Silas, then he already knew what Damon was thinking, and could foresee any identifying question he might ask, and pick the answer right out of the younger immortal's brain.

"You think I'm Silas?" Alaric responded with a frown. "Are you kidding me?" He grabbed Damon's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"See, now this puts us in a bit of a pickle," Damon groaned, "because _that_ is exactly what Silas would say." Since that was precisely what he _had_ been thinking at that moment. How could he tell for sure?

Alaric stood silently for a moment, apparently thinking. Then he turned and walked to a locker a few paces away. He pounded his fist against the stubborn door once, and it sprung open. His arm stretched inside, and came out holding a half-full bottle of his favorite bourbon. Damon chuckled internally. Sneaky bastard, hiding his liquor away in an unlocked locker where nobody would ever think to look…

But, wait, if nobody would think to look there, and Damon hadn't known it was there—which he hadn't…

"Now," Alaric said with a grin, "would Silas know about Locker 42?"

Damon's cheeks widened in an answering grin, and then the two men embraced, laughing.

"Now, hang on," Damon realized after a moment, pulling away and prodding at Alaric's upper arm for emphasis. "If I can see you, and I can touch you, then that means the little witch did it. She dropped the veil."

"Well, not completely," Alaric corrected him. "It's only down inside the Expression triangle." Damon frowned again.

"Then where is everybody? I figured with the veil down, it'd be like Ghost-a-palooza."

"Not every ghost has a reason to come back to Mystic Falls," Alaric explained. "Just the ones like me, looking after their idiot best friends. And the minute the spell completed, a barrier went up around the triangle, so any ghost outside of it can't enter until the veil goes back up and the barrier spell ends."

"How do you know all this trivia stuff?" Damon asked.

"Heard it from a witch," Alaric responded cryptically.

-0-

"One minute, the wind's blowing like it's gonna sweep us right out of Kansas," Matt huffed as he and Rebekah lit candles and arranged them on empty tables, "and then the next, nothing, not even a breeze."

"Looks like something wicked finally came," Rebekah commented quietly as she set down the box of matches and carried two lit tapers over to the bar.

"You know, you don't have to be here," Matt reminded her. "Technically, only one of us is getting paid."

"I know," she responded with a shrug. "But it's fun. Nice cozy atmosphere, with the storm, and the candlelight…" _And us_ , she wanted to add, but at that moment, the door opened behind her. So much for being alone for the evening. Who was coming to a bar in weather like this? She pivoted to get a look, and almost screamed aloud.

"Greetings from the dead," Mikael said theatrically, walking across the smooth wooden floor with heavy, measured tread. Finn lurked at his shoulder, eying Matt distastefully.

"Mikael," Rebekah whispered. Then she swallowed, hoping it wasn't as loud as it sounded to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for your brothers," he responded in the cool, clipped tone she'd learned to hate and fear. "Specifically, the half-breed. Where is Niklaus this fine evening, Rebekah?"

"I don't know," she responded. It was a dull, simple thing to say, but she was still so shocked out of her skin that she couldn't think of one creative word, and the bald truth came out her mouth. In her current state, she wasn't even a hundred percent sure Niklaus lived in Mystic Falls.

"Spare me the lies to protect him, Rebekah," Mikael growled.

"It's the truth," she insisted, trying to keep her voice level. "I haven't heard from him all day—I don't know where he is."

"I'm assuming this means Bonnie dropped the veil," Matt surmised, voice impressively steady, all things considered. Finn continued to glower at him hatefully—unsurprising, since Matt had killed him—but Mikael actually saw fit to answer.

"Not completely, and not for long," he said simply. "So while I have the opportunity to complete my life's mission, I intend to use it."

"You're going to end an entire race of people because you can't resolve your family issues?" Matt shot back, and Rebekah's whole body felt numb. Why would he open his big mouth? It was like he was emulating Caroline!

Finn moved so quickly that even Rebekah's vampire vision nearly missed it. He rushed to the bar, grabbed a half-full bottle of something and smashed it so that he was holding a hunk of jagged-edged glass. Then he rammed it cruelly into Matt's right shoulder, eliciting a scream of pain from the human.

"Listen to the pot calling the kettle black," he hissed.

"Enough, Finn," Mikael drawled. "We have an important task to accomplish, and little time to accomplish it." For a moment, Finn stood over Matt, clearly considering which was more important—committing genocide with his father, or avenging his own death.

"Yes, father," he finally responded, returning to the older man's side. The two Originals vanished so quickly that they made a faint whooshing sound. Then Matt slumped to the floor with a groan.

"Here," Rebekah exclaimed, biting into her wrist and dashing to kneel beside the injured human. "As the wound heals, it'll push out the shards."

"No," Matt protested. Rebekah frowned, perplexed. That was a nonsensical reaction. Unless he still hated her so much that he'd rather suffer than let her heal him…

"It's nothing personal," he explained, following her train of thought. "It's just, people in this town have a bad habit of turning into vampires. I for one would like to graduate high school as a human."

"Then don't die before tomorrow night," Rebekah advised him dryly, inwardly melting in relief that that was the reason.

Matt considered her words, and then laughed a little in self-deprecation. She had a point. If he died, it wasn't like he could graduate either…

-0-

"Quetsiya isn't coming, Bonnie," Not-Caroline announced with relish, after growing bored with the teenage witch's futile attempts to make contact. Bonnie's eyes snapped open at what she still thought were her best friend's words. Then they widened in horror as Silas assumed the hideous form he'd shown her to gain her trust.

"Silas!" she gasped. "But - I saw Caroline. How? I thought you couldn't get inside my head!"

"That's what I wanted you to think," Silas almost purred, morphing first into Elena's form, and then into Stefan's—or rather, his own. "I can make you see whatever I want you to see. Am I a disfigured monster? Or perhaps a handsome hero? That's the beauty of all this. You have _no idea_ who I am, or what I look like, or how deep I am inside of your head. I am stronger than you can imagine. You thought that you could betray me? You can't. I will always be _one_. _Step_. _Ahead_.

Now, let's stop all this foolish posturing. All I want is to pass on, Bonnie. I'll even let you kill me. Just do the spell, and I'll be out of your hair for good."

"But then every dead supernatural creature will be roaming the earth," Bonnie protested raggedly.

"Well," Silas reminded her in a cold, menacing voice, "If you don't help me, _I'll_ be roaming the earth." In the background, footsteps approached down the tunnel. Silas cocked his head towards the sound, with an air of listening, although it wasn't physical noises he was seeking. He grimaced.

"I need to take care of something," he murmured, and Bonnie found her mouth was clamped shut, her face frozen in an expression of deep concentration, like she was working on a spell.

"Bonnie, there you are!" Caroline exclaimed as she came into sight of them, Elena right on her heels. "Stefan, don't run off ahead like that—we have a shape-shifting immortal on the loose."

"Sorry," Not-Stefan offered.

"Where's Damon?" Caroline added with a little frown.

"He went looking for you," Not-Stefan replied smoothly, nodding towards Elena,

Then several things happened at once.

Caroline rushed Silas with a stake, and he manipulated Bonnie into flinging herself into its path. Caroline stopped just in time to avoid killing her best friend, and Silas smirked, but then Elena suddenly—without ever thinking about what she was doing, reached a hand into her pocket, and flung a handful of some white powder onto Silas.

His whole body froze up, and waves of dizziness assaulted him. _An immobilization spell_ , he thought blearily as he was dragged under. Then he dropped like a marionette whose strings were suddenly slashed clean through.

Caroline grabbed Bonnie and flung her into Elena's arms. Elena scooped her up and fled the cave at top speed, ignoring her friend's confused questions.

Caroline took a deep breath. This was the part she'd been trying not to think about.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a grenade.

"Hypocrite," she said softly to herself.

-0-

Damon, Alaric and Stefan—who had arrived with the two of them only moments ago, and had yet to be convinced that Alaric wasn't Silas—felt the hallway shift beneath them, and all quickly leaned up against the walls and lockers for support.

"The hell was that?" Damon demanded.

"Felt like an explosion underground," Alaric observed.

Without another word, all three vampires sped down to the caves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So, the Originals all use Mikaelson as their surname, which is traditional: "Mikael's Son." However, traditionally, the female offspring would be "Mikaelsdottir," which is—you guessed it—"Mikael's Daughter." Rebekah uses Mikaelson because she's progressive and modern and wants to keep things simple and 21st Century and match her brothers. But Frey's been dead so long that she'd still say "Mikaelsdottir."


	24. Rite of Passage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for more-than-canon violence/brutality. The first scene, italicized, contains the brunt of it - it's exactly what you'd expect based on the foreshadowing in previous chapters. Specific description in the end note if you're not 100% sure what I'm talking about and would like to make an informed decision.

_The pin was harder to pull out than Caroline had expected, but she'd only ever seen a grenade used in the movies. Adrenaline rushed hotly through her veins, and her heart broke into a sprint as she lingered for a quarter of a second, eyes riveted on the small oval of metal she'd embedded in Silas's stomach. Then her brain caught up with her body, and she dashed away as fast as her vampire legs could take her. When the explosion went off, the ground shifted beneath her feet, and she fell awkwardly against the rough stone wall._

_The blast tremor only lasted for a few seconds, but to a vampire, with her senses in survival-overdrive, it felt like minutes. Her stomach sloshed painfully, and she squeezed her eyes shut, breathing heavily, waiting for the world around her to feel solid again._

_A loud buzzing filled her ears as the sound of the explosion died, and the temptation to sink to her knees and assume the fetal position right there was almost overwhelming. Along with the ghostly echoes of the detonation came the phantom feeling in her hands of shoving metal through flesh and pulling out the pin. Her mind repeated the action in pristine detail a thousand times in the four seconds she stood there._

' _What did I just do?_

_What did I just do?_

_What did I just do?'_

_She swallowed back the bile in her throat, straightened up, and returned to the cavern._

' _It'll all be for nothing if I don't finish this…'_

-0-

Caroline rolled over in bed, staring at the window without really seeing it. She'd wandered back to Klaus's house, but he hadn't been home, and a small flare of gratitude had ignited in her shell-shocked mind when she'd realized she didn't have to talk to him yet.

After all, what she'd just done… it could have been him—was supposed to be him, months ago.

She didn't regret blowing Silas to high heaven. He murdered her mother, and there really was no other way to get rid of him. But the act itself had been reprehensible, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking. The idea that she was capable of that kind of brutality, and that it could easily have been the fate of someone she loved…

She rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars. It _wasn't_ Klaus who had been hurt. She'd saved him back in December—that whole affair was wrapped up and buried.

Besides, she'd been more merciful to Silas than he deserved. It wasn't like he was in pain anymore, thanks to the rest of her plan.

-0-

_When Elena and Bonnie reentered the cavern, closely followed by the Salvatores and Alaric, Elena almost lost her dinner. The walls, the floor, and even the ceiling were painted with fresh blood. It was running and dripping sickeningly from the stalagmites and boulders. Caroline stood in the center of the space, turning around on the spot, scanning the space with her eyes._

" _We need to find his frontal cortex as it starts to reform," she announced, almost absentmindedly, as the others entered. "His brain," she added a little grumpily as Damon's face threatened to somehow make that embarrassingly funny._

" _Why?" Bonnie asked, unable to fathom what was happening in front of her._

" _You're going to spell it," she explained. Bonnie blinked, still completely confused. "You're going to use magic to bond the rest of the paralytic ash to it. We can't stop him from healing, but if his brain is paralyzed, he'll be brain dead or comatose—sleep away eternity. I asked Sophie if it would work, and she gave me a spell for it." She patted her back pocket, which held the sheet of paper the witch had scribbled down the incantation on._

" _Okay," Bonnie agreed quietly, just as Elena announced in a slightly nauseous groan, "I think I found it."_

" _That's the one," Caroline agreed coolly as she looked at the growing mass of cells to which the youngest doppelganger was pointing._

-0-

He'd reformed slowly, after Bonnie was done chanting, but had curled up like a newborn baby as his skeleton grew in. By the time he had flesh again, he'd completely covered his face. They'd all stood around nervously, waiting for him to twitch or mind-control them or otherwise prove that the spell hadn't worked.

Caroline had known that they didn't need to bother—Sophie wasn't exactly an amateur, and she'd been confident that it would work. She rolled over again, laying on her back and trying not to think about anything.

Downstairs, the door opened, and Klaus's familiar footsteps entered. The urge to get up and go talk to him fought the urge to lie still and pretend to be asleep, and she listened to him hang up his jacket, walk down the hall, and enter his studio.

-0-

_When nothing awful happened for several minutes, Stefan finally bent down, picked the body up and slung him over his shoulder. Damon tugged at his wrists to try and expose his face, but his whole body was as stiff as if he'd been carved from iron._

" _Well, damn," he grumbled, releasing the immortal's arm. "I was really getting excited there. Guess we'll never know."_

" _I wonder why Caroline saw my face the whole time?" Stefan asked quietly as they all turned to leave the murder-scene cave._

" _Maybe that's what Silas really looked like?" Alaric suggested with a shrug._

" _Nah," Damon responded. "Only one hero-hair like that in the whole world, and that's my little bro."_

" _Amen to that," a familiar voice agreed from the doorway that led up into the school._

" _You gotta be kidding me!" Stefan exclaimed in amazement, eyes rived on Lexi Branson, in all her tall, willowy blonde glory. Damon and Alaric wordlessly took Silas between them, and Stefan stepped forward, dreamlike, to embrace his formerly-dead best friend. "I can't believe you're here!"_

" _Yeah," Lexi murmured. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts." From behind her, another familiar figure stepped into view._

" _Grams?" Bonnie whispered in disbelief._

" _Hello, Bonnie," Sheila Bennett greeted her granddaughter._

" _Here," Elena said softly to Damon, reaching out for Silas's body. "I'll take him—you guys join in the reunion."_

" _And what's that supposed to mean?" A third unexpectedly familiar voice asked. Elena's face froze, and then her eyes slowly widened. She turned, incredibly slowly, to meet her brother's eyes._

" _Hey, sis," Jeremy said softly._

-0-

Caroline pressed her pillow against her face, trying to block out the world. The sound of Klaus's brushstrokes were loud and frantic, and she heard him puncture a canvas. Whatever his day had been like, it hadn't been fun, apparently. She wondered who might've turned up from the Other Side looking for him. Whoever it was, they wouldn't be a problem much longer—Sheila had immediately insisted that Bonnie close the veil. Elena, Stefan and Damon had all gone off with Jeremy, Alaric and Lexi to spend every last moment they could with their dead loved ones. Caroline had felt third-wheel-ish, and she could feel Bonnie's eyes on her, silently accusing, although her friend hadn't said anything aloud. Apparently she wasn't the only one who saw the grenade trick as excessively brutal.

Pin clicking out, metal orb stabbing through flesh, moment of hesitation, earth-shattering blast, blood everywhere…

She sat bolt upright, shivering uncontrollably, and wondering in concern if she was developing PTSD.

-0-

"Bonnie," Sheila chided as her granddaughter frantically set up candles around the horrifically bloodied cave. "This is foolishness, child. You need to put the veil back up, right now, before something irreversible happens."

"Not yet!" Bonnie insisted, whirling to face the older witch, a manic light in her eyes. "Thanks to Caroline's interference, I didn't have to use up anywhere near as much power as I thought fighting Silas. I can do it—I can bring Jeremy back, I can keep him here!"

"Bonnie, you aren't the only one channeling the Expression Triangle! This kind of magic is dark, and dangerous. You may not feel the drain, but it's still there."

"He isn't supposed to be dead, Grams," Bonnie countered pleadingly. "He's too young! I have to try!"

"Don't, Bonnie!" Sheila protested, but the younger witch was already holding her hands up, chanting.

-0-

"Finally, the power's coming back on," Rebekah commented as she and the freshly healed Matt walked out the front door of the Grill and watched the lights in the town square click back on one by one.

"Of course, it's _after_ we close up," Matt groused, flexing his shoulder. "Thanks, by the way. I guess it would've really sucked to have to patch that up naturally."

"Yeah, well," Rebekah responded with a humorless laugh, "cleaning up after my brothers' tantrums is nothing new. Although, Finn was usually the quiet one. Consequence of being daggered in a box for most of his lifetime, and all."

"Yeah, I can't imagine him causing much trouble," Matt agreed a little awkwardly. It was unnatural to talk like this about a guy he'd _killed_. At the time, he hadn't let it bother him—it was something he'd gritted his teeth and done to protect the people he cared about. But after Caroline's outburst about the plan to kill Kol, he'd thought about it a lot, and it really made him sick, realizing what he'd done, and how many people had died because of it.

"Oh, my god," Rebekah whispered in horror. Matt snapped his eyes up to follow her line of sight. A man stood in the middle of town square, turning back and forth to stare in apparent confusion at the light-poles positioned around him.

"Who is that?" Matt asked with a frown.

"That," Rebekah responded quietly, "is my ex-boyfriend, Alexander."

-0-

Far away, in a storage container somewhere in a warehouse, the two-thousand-year-old statue of a woman was unable to jerk and scream in pain as a young witch passed through her to go to the other side. Unfortunately for her, even in that calcified state, she still felt the energy drain that had killed the girl.

-0-

Klaus was on the edge of sleep when he sensed movement near him. He lay perfectly still, feigning sleep, and listening intently. After a moment, he relaxed. The bare feet patting almost silently towards him were undoubtedly Caroline's. But, what precisely was she doing in his bedroom at this hour? Of course, his mind supplied him with plenty of fantastic answers to that question, but he was rather inclined to assume that none of them were the actual reason.

So, it surprised him a little when, instead of trying to wake him, she lifted the covers on the side of the bed further from where he lay, and climbed in, curling up with her head on the pillow, apparently with every intention of going right to sleep. He could sense tension in her body even with a foot of space between them, and she was clearly exerting herself to try and breathe normally. She must have been having nightmares again, he realized after a second or two of thinking about it.

Wordlessly, he rolled over, reached out, and gently pulled her into his arms. She stiffened at first, clearly surprised that he was awake, but then relaxed into him, resting her head on his chest.

-0-

Morning came, and with it, the day's responsibilities, just like every other day. For some—like Caroline—that involved things like carefully untangling herself from Klaus, showering, and getting to school early for committee work. For others—like Stefan—that involved a trip to the wine cellar to get more alcohol while he and his formerly dead best friend partied their hearts out. And for two dead Originals, morning's responsibilities centered on plotting genocide.

"I will keep the whelp busy, while you retrieve the White Oak stake," Mikael announced. "In his paranoia, Niklaus moved it to a safe in Rebekah's attic, though she is still unaware of it."

"Leave it to me," Finn agreed with a nod.

-0-

"I hit kind of a snag."

"A snag?" Caroline hissed, on the edge of shouting. She had to work very hard not to smash her phone in her vampire-heightened stress. "A snag is a bad yearbook picture," she continued in a tightly controlled voice, while smiling as naturally as she could manage at the guy in front of her picking up his yearbook. "You hit a tsunami. Where are you?"

"I'm trying to fix it, but I'm running into some trouble," Bonnie assured her, although Caroline noticed that she'd sidestepped the question. "I need to wait until the full moon tonight to have enough power to put the veil back up."

"Are you telling me that we might graduate right smack in the middle of a ghost-filled Expression Triangle?" Caroline choked out, eyes darting from side to side, simultaneously checking to make sure that no one had overheard her and looking out for anyone who was supposed to be six feet under.

"Maybe we should just cancel," Bonnie suggested in a melancholy voice.

"No!" Caroline exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that the hallway full of students weren't supposed to know anything was wrong. "We are _not_ going to cancel. Graduation is the most important event of our lives, the last ceremony of our youth. It is our rite of freaking passage! Hell will freeze over before I let anyone cancel graduation," she finished in a growl.

"Can you not make jokes about hell freezing over?" Bonnie requested quietly. "We're not that far off from that already."

Caroline sighed. "Just promise me that today is a friend day," she responded.

"Okay," Bonnie promised readily. "I love you."

"I love you too," Caroline echoed, and her friend hung up.

_Metal stabbing through flesh. Pin sliding out. Click. Pause. Bolt. Explosion. Earth rocking. Walls shaking. Heart pounding. Blood. Blood everywhere._

Caroline reached under the table and fumbled for her thermos of blood. The feeling of being trapped in time that had started on her eighteenth birthday and intensified after her mother's death was now turning into full-blown, recurring flashbacks. It was like she'd never left those caves last night.

She had to graduate. She had to walk across that stage, shake some hands, have a picture taken, and symbolically turn the page in her life, and leave this sickening moment of fear and guilt behind her.

_Metal stabbing through flesh. Pin sliding out. Click._

"Here you go," Caroline said pleasantly as she handed out another yearbook. Maybe instead of going to an after party, she should ask Klaus to take her to his favorite bar. Stress made her thirsty. Thirst made her murderous. And that combination really didn't help with the whole "graphic flashback" thing.

-0-

"A hidden compartment filled with advanced weaponry," Alexander murmured, almost tenderly, as he examined one of Connor's guns. "Man has evolved from his days of throwing stones."

"There is nothing we can do for you Alexander," Rebekah said, trying to keep the growl out of her voice. She would have liked nothing more than to simply rip his head off, but she knew his reflexes were unparalleled, and with his left hand, he was absentmindedly fiddling with a little plastic electronic device with a large, cliché red button. As long as he had that keychain-sized gadget, she might as well be as human as she'd pretended on prom night. "Please," she moaned, "let us go."

Alexander grinned, showing off his clean, even teeth. "I'm not holding you here." He reminded her, his eyes straying to the cables strewn across the parking lot, connecting six automobiles to the exploding device in the center of the asphalt. On top of the bomb, that handsome blonde man balanced precariously, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.

"Just go, Rebekah," Matt insisted. "I'll be fine."

"I'm not leaving you," Rebekah shot back.

"Probably a wise decision," Alexander commented, setting down the gun and turning his hand over, admiring the large, ornate ring now decorating his third finger. "After all, he's little more than a defenseless child without this lovely piece of magic…"

"What do you want from us?" Rebekah demanded, a snarl creeping into her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt shift, and she heard his breath catch as he pinwheeled his arms to stay upright. Instantly, she was at his side, moving his hands to her shoulders.

"To fulfill my destiny," Alexander announced, ignoring the scene unfolding before him. "The brotherhood of hunters was created for one reason, and one reason alone. To hunt down Silas and kill him."

"Caroline blasted him to high heaven last night, and Bonnie put him into an eternal sleep," Rebekah countered, exasperated. "What bloody more do you want?"

"Oh, it's not we who want him dead, really," Alexander explained. "Quetsiya's been looking forward to catching up with him on the Other Side for a very long time now."

"You people are mental," Rebekah groaned as Matt shifted again, his fingers digging into her shoulders a little as he regained balance. The board on which he stood was supported only by the small bomb beneath it, so it was not unlike that acrobatic routine where the performer balances on a tray on top of a ball.

"Just ignore him, all right?" Matt cautioned her, noticing her growing irritation. "Let's think about something else. Like graduation. What are your plans – college? Travel? Just because I'm never getting out of this town doesn't mean you shouldn't see the world."

Rebekah's eyes flicked up from where she'd been nervously watching his feet.

"It's just been settled," she decided quickly. "I'm gonna show you life as you've only dreamt it. We'll start in Italy. Then I'll show you the Northern Lights in the springtime, the Simatai Gorge from atop the Great Wall of China, every inch of the Louvre." Provided you survive the morning. That was the asterisk that hung in the air between them.

Matt smiled, although the subtext wasn't lost on him. "China, Paris, the Northern Lights..." he echoed thoughtfully. "It's a date."

"Don't you two look cozy?" Alexander commented, voice tight in irritation.

"Matt," Rebekah whispered, knowing it was so low that even Alexander's heightened hunter senses couldn't catch it. "As soon as his back is turned, I'm going to swap places with you. As soon as you're on the ground, you need to run like you think you're Bob Hayes and the whole world is watching."

"No way," Matt breathed, trying to move his lips as little as possible. "Then you'll blow into a billion pieces as soon as he figured out what we did!"

"I'm an Original, Matt," Rebekah reminded him, exasperated. "I'll get over it. You won't." She fixed her eyes meaningfully on the hand on which he'd worn the Gilbert ring, up until Alexander had taken it from him. "Besides," she added. "I'm a vampire. We're fast. If you get out of range before he notices, I can step off, detonate the bomb, and get clear while it sends him back to hell where he belongs. Okay?"

"Okay," Matt agreed tightly, bending his knees slightly, getting ready.

Then, without warning, Rebekah kissed him. Their lips moved in tandem for several long, blissful seconds, before both of them heard a snort of irritation and disgust from the hunter's direction. Which, if he was like any other human being on the face of the earth, would be followed by looking away from the scene before him.

Rebekah's feet found the center of the platform as Matt's feet met the dry pavement, and without a moment's hesitation, he turned and bolted.

"No!" Alexander roared a few seconds later as he turned back and realized what had happened.

Matt heard the cry, and instinctively glanced over his shoulder. He saw the horrified look on Rebekah's face, at about the same time that he heard the quiet beep of the detonator button in Alexander's hand.

' _Not far enough,_ ' was the only thought he had time to register before gold and white blossomed across his vision, and a shredded piece of car door rammed straight into his stomach, sending him flying into the side of a big, rusty pickup truck.

-0-

"You know, scholars and clergy used to wear those daily," Klaus said quietly, appearing at Caroline's shoulder as she struggled to bobby-pin the stubborn graduation cap to her hair. She grimaced over her shoulder.

"No wonder the people in old paintings always look like they're in a bad mood," she responded. "Lend a hand?" she added, holding out a pair of pins. He took them from her and, for a moment, the flashbacks that had plagued her all day vanished like the mirages they were, out-competed for brain space by the feeling of his long, painter's fingers running gently through her hair.

"Thanks for coming," she said quietly, turning to look at him when she felt his touch disappear. Not only was he showing up for what would likely be, for him, a long, tedious afternoon, but he'd dressed up for it, like it actually mattered to him. It was little gestures like this that kept reinforcing to her that she was making the right decision, staying close to him, letting him into her heart… Crawling into his bed in the middle of the night without asking because she felt like the walls in her room were smothering her… Actually, that last one was still just as embarrassing as it had been when she'd snuck out this morning.

"Wouldn't miss it," he responded with his trademark villain smirk. "A chance to witness you using your Miss Mystic Falls training to keep your head up with all of these honors hanging off of it," he laughed, playing with one of her tassels. She snickered and nodded ruefully.

"Maybe in the future they'll use collar pins instead, or something," she suggested.

"Where is everyone?" Bonnie asked without preamble as she approached the two vampires while zipping up her own red graduation robe.

"Hello to you, too, Bennett witch," Klaus greeted her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm here," Elena announced, running up to them with Stefan in tow. She looked remarkably stressed, Caroline thought. It also registered in her mind that Damon wasn't with his brother and his girlfriend, but then, he might've gone to sit down in the quickly filling seats.

"I'm going to go grab a seat," Klaus said quietly, clearly on the same train of thought, and he vanished as the other two vampires reached them.

"Where's Matt?" Bonnie asked worriedly.

"He was with Rebekah last night at the Grill," Elena remembered. "Maybe they're a little distracted?"

"Eww," Bonnie groaned, "Elena! Bad time to suddenly decide to sound like a gossipy cheerleader." Caroline laughed, and she thought she caught Stefan smirking. Lexi must've had a positive influence on him last night, she decided.

"I can't believe it," she said quietly, eyes roving between her friends' faces. "We're actually here. We got this far together! Bonnie Bennett," she exclaimed suddenly, "are you crying?"

"It's our last hurrah before you guys go off to college," Bonnie answered, avoiding the question for the second time that day.

"Before _we_ go off to college!" Caroline corrected.

"I... kinda sorta missed the deadline," Elena admitted. "You know, being an emotionless bitch." Caroline chose not to admit—yet—that she'd already sent in applications for both Bonnie and Elena, complete with some practice essays they'd written in English class, and a request for a triple in the biggest, prettiest dorm on campus.

"Well, the perks of being a vampire," was all she said. "We can go wherever we wanna go."

"I'm happy we're all here," Bonnie said with more tears in her eyes.

"Aw – group hug!" Caroline exclaimed, grabbing Bonnie, who was nearest to her, and reaching out an arm for Stefan.

"Ah, I don't – I don't hug..." he protested, but between Elena and Caroline, they wrestled him into the tight little knot.

"Oh, get over yourself!" Caroline giggled.

She'd thought the ceremony would seem long, but it blurred by surprisingly quickly. The Principal spoke, then the valedictorian, and then different honors were being recognized, and Caroline had to stand up and sit down over and over and over again, blushing a little more each time. Although she wasn't facing the guest seating, she could feel Klaus's eyes on the back of her neck. Since she couldn't see his expression, however, she couldn't be sure if he was proud of her or laughing at the silliness of it all.

Then a guy from registration straightened a pile of papers on a clipboard, and read into a microphone, "John Albrecht," and John Albrecht walked across the stage to accept his diploma.

"David Bance," the man read. "Sarah Beasley. Bonnie Bennett." Bonnie was still crying and smiling at the same time as the shook the principal's hand and took her diploma. It was unusual for her to be more emotional than Caroline, but today was a pretty important day, after all.

Savannah Davis was called, immediately followed by William Duncan. Caroline had barely enough time to fully register that Matt's name was never called, meaning he never signed in, before her own name was sounding across the football field, and she was mounting the stage for her own turn. With her amazing vampire senses, she was able to scan the crowd, pick out the people she knew—which, since Mystic Falls was a small town, was quite a few—and finally locate Klaus near the left aisle, clapping and grinning. She decided his expression was more proud than mocking, and shot him a little smile before she had to make eye-contact with the principal and shake his hand.

She returned to her seat, diploma in hand, realizing with a touch of confusion that Damon really hadn't been anywhere in the crowd. Why would he miss Elena's and Stefan's graduation?

Having a name so close to the beginning of the alphabet wasn't really very helpful, that day. As soon as she started worrying about Matt and Damon—or more accurately, worrying about Matt's safety and the safety of those _around_ Damon—the ceremony started to drag by at the speed of a drop of honey dripping down the side of the bottle. By the time Elena Gilbert was on stage, she had convinced herself that Matt and Rebekah were certainly together. Halfway through the J-names, she'd decided that Damon must be trying something stupid to see Silas's face before he got rid of the body. As the last M-name was called and the admin guy took a sip of water and started on the N's, she tried to tell herself that Matt was hanging out with Jeremy, had lost track of time, and when he realized how late he was, decided—in true teenage guy fashion—to just ditch the whole thing. But when the S-names started, she had to grip the edges of her chair to keep herself in it, so strong was the vision of Silas, an explosive buried in his flesh as she prepared to yank out the pin…

Finally, finally, someone named Angelica Zymali accepted her diploma, shook the principal's hand, and returned to her seat. The closing address was lost on the blonde vampire as she struggled to force away the vivid memories from the previous night. Everyone switched over their tassels, and Caroline's hands mechanically followed suit. She noticed numbly that it was difficult to get the thing to stay on the left side of her cap, although it had hung contentedly on the right side throughout the ceremony. Perhaps it was an omen; after all, this probably wouldn't be her last time attending high school.

The crowd erupted with cheers as the ceremony ended, and the graduates walked off the field in an orderly line, only to break up into a disorganized crows as soon as they finished shaking the hands of the various faculty lining the hallway just inside the school. Caroline, being Caroline, had a great many teachers with whom to make polite conversation, but instead of distracting her from her flashbacks, somehow the small talk made them worse. She was afraid of her own hands; every time she shook hands with someone, she felt the irrational urge to hit them, pull them in close and rip into their arteries, break them in half and leave them to bleed out onto the floor. It was like the more savage part of being a vampire—suppressed by her own strong will since that first awful day of confusion and bloodlust—had reawakened in the aftermath of the Silas incident.

She located Klaus by the unmistakable sound of his voice, and listened with some amusement to the conversations he was having with some trustee members. For an ancient, evil vampire, he sure donated a lot of money to a lot of places.

_Pin. Click. Hesitate. Run. Shaking. Shattering. Blood everywhere._

"Excuse me," Caroline said politely, "I need some air."

How she got outside, she wasn't totally sure, but once she did, she gulped down huge lungfuls of fresh air. She wasn't underground in a dank tunnel—she was at school, graduating with her friends, and what happened last night was in the past, and could stay there and rot.

"Hello, Caroline," an unfamiliar voice greeted her, dripping with malice. She barely had time to turn around before her head was splitting open, and she had to bite down hard on her tongue to keep from shrieking in pain.

"Remember us?" one of the twelve witches that had come up behind her demanded. "Thanks to you, we were sitting ducks for Silas."

"I was trying to _save_ you!" Caroline gritted out, voice a mix of pain and frustration.

"Then why are we dead?" the witch demanded, but the last part of the word "dead" was cut off as something red whirled through the air with an ominous whistle, neatly severing her head.

"Plenty more of these to go around," Klaus announced casually, twirling somebody's graduation cap between his hands. "Who's next?

-0-

Behind the bleachers, Freya watched thoughtfully as the witches retreated and her younger half-brother approached the blonde girl.

"Are you going to go out there and say 'hi'?" Lexi asked, approaching silently, although she knew the witch had sensed her as she drew near. Freya shook her head with a sad smile.

"I'm not staying," she said quietly. "I know he cares about family, no matter how he tries to hide it. There's no point in waving what he can't have in front of him."

Lexi nodded. She'd thought about that kind of thing once she realized what Bonnie was up to with the veil. Should she show herself to Stefan, knowing that it was temporary, and that his heart would break all over again when the spell ended? In the end, she'd had to turn it around—ask herself what she would want if she was in his position and he in hers.

"Well," Freya sighed, a little wistfully, "Time for me to quit stalking. I have to get back to the site of the witch massacre to make sure the wards are holding properly.

The last thing we need is _another_ vengeful parent on the loose…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caroline sticks a grenade in Silas's gut, causing him to explode into a bunch of itty-bitty pieces and proto-vampiric goop. Afterwards she has brief flashbacks periodically throughout the text, due to the extremely violent nature of the act.


	25. Sentiment

Two squirrels were having an argument nearby. They chased one another across rough tree-bark, little claws clicking and scratching as they flew up and down the trunk. The roads were busy, for the suburbs of Mystic Falls; every car's tires crunched loudly across the worn asphalt, and the people inside of them were all on their cell phones or listening to music or talking to their kids.

It was loud.

The whole world was too damn loud.

Matt Donovan awoke with a rough gasp, sitting bolt upright and pressing his hands against his stomach, feeling around for gaping wounds that weren't there. His abs felt as hard and solid as always, and he sighed loudly in relief. He'd really thought he was a goner for a minute there.

"You're awake," Rebekah exclaimed softly, and he turned his head quickly to see her sitting on a chair near his bed. Some part of his mind noted in slight surprise that not only was she wearing completely different clothes than she had been when he'd last been conscious enough to see her, his shirt had also been replaced.

"Yeah," he agreed awkwardly. The feeling of déjà vu swept through him like a rush of strong liquor. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up after a fatal accident to see a blonde girl looking like she had bad news for him. "What happened? I remember getting hit with something pretty big, and then… nothing." He shifted slightly on the bed to get into a more comfortable sitting position, and that small movement caused his sheets to release a powerful wave of dust motes and scents. "Did you give me blood again?"

Matt had been studying his perfectly healthy abdomen, but he looked up when Rebekah remained silent for an unusually long moment.

"Rebekah?" he asked with a frown, a little worried. She swallowed, and he watched the little shifts in the skin of her neck in odd fascination. She'd gulped awfully loudly, he thought, which was odd, for her.

"Matt," she started, just as his brain started to catch up and do the math. She could see in his eyes that he was figuring it out, and she fell silent, letting the stricken expression on her face convey all the confirmation he needed.

"Oh my god," he whispered, instinctively running his tongue along the edges of his upper teeth, noticing a sharpness to his canines that certainly hadn't been there that morning.

"I… I died." He choked out.

"I died with your blood in my system."

-0-

Although Caroline was finding it pretty attractive that Klaus was—at least for the day—being gallant enough to go running off to the Salvatores' to save Damon from some werewolf venom-laced bullets, it was rather interfering with her post-graduation plans. She sat in her car, head bowed to avoid making eye-contact with any more well-wishing, perfectly innocent walking blood bags, and waited for him to turn back up, and hopefully take her someplace where she could act out some of the crazy that had been steadily building over the last twenty-four hours.

Lexi, Alaric, Elena, Jeremy and Stefan were all back at the Salvatore house as well, and Bonnie had hurried off soon after the ceremony to start the spell to close the veil back up. Caroline still had strong enough control over herself to know that she should not be around people unsupervised, so she fully planned to sit in that car until Klaus returned, which he'd said he would do.

_Stab. Pull. Click. Wait. Run. Boom. Shake. Splat._

She clutched the steering wheel with such force that by the time she'd come back to herself, she'd begun to warp it. On second thought, her expensive-to-repair car might not have been the best place to wait this out. But, she wondered in growing frustration and panic, where could she go? Everyone was out on the town celebrating, and if she went home and ran into one of Klaus's girls with no witnesses… She swallowed hard at the thought.

Now that graduation was over, everything she'd been focusing on to keep the greater issues at bay was gone. She didn't have so much as an impending committee meeting standing between her and the stark realities that her mother was dead, and she was both a hypocrite and a monster. She knew, cognitively, that her emotions weren't the most logical counselors just then, but that didn't make them any less painful.

_Stab. Pull. Run. Boom. Shudder. Crumble. Dust everywhere. Blood everywhere. Bonnie's accusing eyes._

After fumbling for a moment, she got the door open and half climbed, half fell out of the car. She was equal parts wired and drained, and the only thing she was completely certain of was the fact that she was very dangerous to anyone who might come within smelling distance of her.

She needed to go someplace where she could be completely and utterly alone.

-0-

Finding an extremely popular and outgoing teenage girl after her high school graduation should not be this difficult, Klaus thought with a flash of irritation. Elena had turned up only minutes after he'd killed the witches, saying that Damon—who'd apparently had a bullet laced with werewolf venom lodged in his shoulder for several hours—had just gotten shot with so much more of the stuff that his life was in immediate danger. Although he had no particular love for Damon Salvatore, or Elena Gilbert, he'd still agreed to go save the bloody fool, mostly to impress Caroline.

Caroline had looked appropriately impressed when he left, but after his fairly quick trip to and from the Salvatore residence, he'd been unable to relocate her at the school. It seemed like everyone there had spoken to her, and had seen her go off in this or that direction, but it took a ridiculously long chain of people, each with their own snatch of polite conversation, before someone finally admitted that she'd seen her leave. He shot her a quick text message as he headed for the parking lot.

Her car was still there, and not only was it unlocked, her purse was tossed haphazardly across the passenger seat. He thought for a moment that this was a sign she was still nearby—especially since her phone was still sticking out of the side pocket—but a cursory glance into another pocket revealed that her key-ring was missing. It took only a few seconds for him to logic that one out. If a thief had taken the keys, he or she would have made off with the car, or at least the wallet. Both car and wallet were present an un-stolen, so she must've taken the keys herself. That meant that wherever she was, she needed the keys to get inside. Clearly, that somewhere wasn't her car. She didn't actually have a key to the mansion, thanks to her unexpected and un-planned move-in, and the fact that no one had ever specified how long she planned to stay after she didn't need the clinic. If she'd returned there, Alphonse or one of the girls would have let her in, and she wouldn't have needed her keys.

That only left one other place she could be.

-0-

Silas was shockingly light, Stefan thought distractedly as he hefted him easily into the trunk of Klaus's SUV, which he had borrowed since neither his nor Damon's cars would easily fit a man-sized safe. He knew that Silas's weight was normal for his body size, but he'd gotten into the habit of thinking of him as a living stone, so it was weird to remember that he was all carbon and water and human hair and fingernails like everyone else.

"Think the quarry will be deep enough to bury him?" He asked aloud, hearing and smelling Damon's approach.

"Yeah," his brother agreed. "I don't think anyone's gonna stumble on him there." The original plan had involved a yacht and several days of moderately creepy vacationing on the open sea, but then Alaric had pointed out that sharks and other sea creatures bled too. Although the spell was supposed to keep Silas asleep forever, he was the only one of his kind, and they didn't want to take a chance that blood in the water would be enough to kick-start him. So, they'd settled on a man-made, mostly wildlife-free body of water.

"You want me to, ah—" Damon started, but Stefan closed the hatch and shook his head before he'd even finished speaking.

"No, it's all right. I got Lexi coming with me."

"Yeah," Damon remembered with a nod, and turned to walk back inside. Stefan noted the tense set of his shoulders, the way his thumbs were shoved into his pockets, and the overly-confident plant of his feet. His brother was walking on eggshells, probably ever since he realized that everyone in the house had heard Elena's not-very-quiet confession of her undying love for him.

"Hey, Damon," he called, and Damon turned quickly to look over his shoulder.

"I'm not happy about Elena..." Stefan admitted. "But I'm not _not_ -happy for you, either. I just want you to know that."

Although Damon's façade of cool indifference was still in full play, his shoulders relaxed, and he dropped his hands to his sides.

"Thanks, brother," he said quietly, and despite the casual wording, Stefan could tell that he meant it.

"Ready to roll?" Lexi asked, walking out the door just after Damon walked in through it.

"If you play 'Sweet Home Alabama' more than three times for the duration of this trip, I'll stake you myself," Stefan warned playfully, and Lexi snickered, climbing in the passenger seat.

"Shut up and drive," she ordered, grabbing the aux cable and plugging in Stefan's phone.

-0-

Klaus leaned against the doorframe of Caroline's old bedroom, arms folded, looking thoughtfully down at her as she lay motionless on the bed. The lights were off, but the full moon had cleared the nearby rooftops, and shone brightly through the window, illuminating the space with a pale white glow. Caroline's hair was spread out on the pillow around her head, and in the colorless moonlight, it appeared to be the same shade of white as her skin. Although vampires didn't get dark circles under their eyes, somehow her tiredness showed more starkly. Perhaps it was just her expression.

"Are you here to kill me?" she asked, the ghost of a smile flitting across her lips. Had that been the last time he'd stood in this doorway? It might have been.

"Don't even joke," he murmured, straightening up and moving to sit on the side of her bed. Her little smile widened.

"I think I know why Silas couldn't get into my mind," she said quietly after a moment of silence. Klaus's eyebrows rose. With Silas in an eternal sleep, it was now safe to talk about all of the mysteries surrounding the plan to take him down.

"Do tell," he responded.

"Katherine made me think of it, actually," Caroline admitted. "She was being her normal, annoying self, and asked what kind of brain damage I had that prevented Silas from reading me. But, I think she was right." Klaus frowned. He couldn't think where she was going with that.

"Vampires can't get brain damage, Caroline," he reminded her. She nodded.

"I know. At least, we can't permanently—we heal. But, you know how when something is injured and it heals, the repaired area is often stronger and tougher than it was before?" Now it was Klaus's turn to nod.

"I think that my experiences with werewolf venom damaged my brain so badly that by the time you healed me, it had formed into something so different from anything Silas had seen before that he didn't know what to do with it. He wouldn't have ever encountered anyone else like that because it isn't like you usually go around healing people in your spare time. And werewolves are so rare to begin with—what are the odds of a person surviving multiple bites?"

"Hm," Klaus mused, turning that thought over in his mind. "That actually makes good sense," he admitted finally. Then they fell silent for several more long moments.

"I keep seeing it… you know?" she whispered finally. "I keep reliving last night; what happened… what I did."

"You defended yourself, and the people you cared about," Klaus shot back quickly. "You saved countless lives, risking your own in the process. That's all you did last night, Caroline."

"I know," she assured him. "And I don't feel bad for doing what I did _to him_. But… I feel bad for doing it at all. And I feel bad for not feeling bad. And… It's all so messed up." There was a heavy weariness to her voice as she finished, and for a moment it was difficult to believe that she'd only been a vampire for a little over a year. He'd have sworn she was at least five or six hundred in that instant.

"Am I making any sense?" she asked finally.

"Well, on the one hand," Klaus began with a smirk, "You do remember who you're talking to, right, love?" Caroline nodded, rolling her eyes a little. They both knew he was the last person who would judge her for this.

"On the other hand," he continued softly, "I do remember what it was like, a very, very long time ago, when all of this was new to me. I know the triumph and horror of a first kill, a first brutal act, a first revenge. I learnt over time to revel in it, to stand unaffected by it, but a thousand years ago, I was much the same as you are now." He took Caroline's right hand, and ran his fingers over it pensively. "Wondering if my hands had somehow developed some sinister consciousness of their own. Frightened by my own strength. Frantically trying to scrub imaginary traces of blood out of the valleys in my fingerprints. Noticing the smell of death on my skin, long after it had faded."

"And then, late at night, when the whole world is dark and quiet," Caroline added in a low, ashamed whisper, "I can't help but wonder… if I hate the way it made me feel… or if I…"

"If you like it," Klaus finished for her. Caroline closed her eyes, blinking out a tear.

"I don't want to be a monster," she whispered, a sob breaking across the last word. Immediately, Klaus's hands closed gently but firmly around her shoulders, and he pulled her up until she was sitting, facing him. Then he moved his palms to her cheeks, trapping her face so she couldn't look away.

"You, Caroline Forbes, are not a monster," he assured her, speaking slowly, carefully, ensuring that she could understand every word. "You have it in you to become a truly great vampire. And you have the power to do dark deeds, I freely admit. But someone like you, when she stumbles, gets back up again and keeps moving. You weren't built to fall so easily. Silas bent you. But he could not break you. Right now you're torn down, but, you said it yourself, you'll grow back stronger. You won't become a monster, Caroline."

Not if Klaus had to rip every last one of her enemies apart with his own two hands, from now on, to keep hers clean. But he didn't mention that last bit aloud. There was no reason to remind her that the person comforting and reassuring her was himself the kind of monster she feared becoming.

Caroline's eyes never left his, and thanks to vampire powers of perception, he could fully read and understand every little variation in her expression. At first, she was surprised by his intensity. Then, slowly, the panic in her eyes had subsided, and the faint redness faded away as the desire to weep ebbed out of her. When he said his bit about bending without breaking, he didn't miss the tiny glint of hollow triumph that flashed across her face, so faint that a human wouldn't have seen it. She'd gotten through the traumatic death of her only living family without turning her humanity off. That was something to be proud of, in the moments where she could bear the pain of thinking about it at all.

After he finished speaking, there was a long, almost meditative silence. There was nothing more he could say to encourage her; she had to mull all of this over herself. Ultimately, the only person who could really pull Caroline out of this was Caroline herself. But, it wasn't like she could just flip a switch and decide that he was right, she was fine, and everything was going to be rainbows and butterflies from then on. So, when things threatened to get awkward, Klaus opted to change the subject, and give her a chance to rest from all the heavy stuff.

"I never did give you your graduation presents," he observed lightly. She clearly knew what he was doing, but smiled anyway, eyes sparkling in expectation.

"Plural?" she asked. "I think _one_ is traditional."

"Tradition is overrated," Klaus brushed off with a wave of his hand, and she snickered a little, the ordinary saying made funny by who was saying it. "Besides, gift-giving is sort of my forte," he reminded her. She nodded, agreeing with that.

"That being said," he continued, "I did go with tradition on three of them."

"Three?" She exclaimed, blinking in surprise. "Okay, how many did you get?"

"Seven," he responded nonchalantly. "It seemed like a good number," he explained as her eyes widened and her mouth opened to make a comment about exactly how much money he had. "And I only spent serious money on the three traditional ones." He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out two long, thin packages, each the correct length but too short to hold a pair of folded glasses. Both were wrapped in silver tissue. Caroline accepted them, clearly warring between being happy and being appalled that he did spend "serious money" on three gifts.

"The third of the traditional ones is back at home," Klaus added as an afterthought. "I wasn't about to turn up carrying a mini-fridge." Caroline glanced awkwardly at her little fridge, humming away contentedly in the corner.

"One for blood, one for food, trust me," he laughed. "Dorm inspections can be a bit awkward when you mix them. Much easier to unplug the whole thing and slide it into the cardboard box it came in. Cover it in a layer of out-of-season bedding, and it looks like you use it as storage, and then packing for the one in plain sight."

"You know a lot about college life," Caroline observed as she slipped the paper off of the first little velvet-covered box.

"I taught art for a while at Princeton, and Yale," he admitted. "Taught history for a few semesters at Oxford, too. I couldn't stay at any one of them for long, since I didn't age, and Mikael would always turn up eventually, but it was nice, while it lasted. And I can always go back fifty years later and pretend to be my own son. One of the perks of immortality."

"Is this meant to be ironic, then?" she asked, running her fingers over the familiar silver infinity-bracelet's chain, which had been professionally converted into the band for a classy little watch-face.

"Symbolic," Klaus responded immediately. He placed his own fingers on the metal and diamonds. "To us, time is infinite. But," he added, touching the timepiece, "each second still matters." Caroline nodded thoughtfully. Then she slid the paper off of the other little package, and rolled what she was fairly confident was a solid gold pen between her fingers, admiring the exquisite engraving of a bird taking flight across the grip.

"A phoenix," she realized after a moment.

"Seeing you off on your first of many incarnations and college journeys," Klaus added with a nod. "Now, for the unorthodox," he announced, pulling out a medium-sized manila envelope, and another little box—this one half the size of Caroline's cell phone, and only about an inch deep. Caroline removed the lid, and inside lay a tiny metal bottle, and an ordinary-looking key.

"To the mansion," Klaus explained, pointing at the key. ' _Because what's mine is yours_ ' hung in the air between them as loudly as if he'd spoken it in so many words.

"And, for emergencies," he finished, gesturing at the bottle.

"Your blood?" she guessed. He nodded.

"I'd rather not have a repeat of that night in the woods when I was almost too late to save you," he murmured, a rough edge to his voice. "Werewolf venom may be good for your mental defenses, but it's rather detrimental to the rest of you. I'd appreciate it rather much if you'd keep this in your purse." Caroline nodded ruefully, and Klaus handed her the envelope. When she pulled out the thick pieces of paper inside, she was suddenly holding back tears again.

"I remember you lamenting the lack of pictures of your family together," he said after letting her look at them for a moment. He'd taken some of the photos they'd unearthed and drawn multiple images together, creating a few pictures of Caroline and her parents, at different stages of her life. He'd also drawn one of her in her cap and gown, her parents one either side of her. At the bottom, in careful script, he'd written, "Always with you."

"Thank you," she breathed when she was able to speak again.

"You are _most_ welcome," he replied.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted after another long moment, looking at her lap and the gifts now strewn across it.

"Don't say anything yet—we're not done," he reminded her. "Math isn't really your strong suit, is it?" She snickered and stuck her tongue out.

"Shut up," she chided playfully, but he continued to shake his head in mock disapproval.

"This last one isn't something you can unwrap," he admitted after the amusement had subsided. "And, you have to accept it, before I can give it to you. But, you'll have to trust me." Caroline frowned, confused.

"I trust you," she assured him with a shrug. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm quite serious, Caroline," he stressed, putting a hand on her arm for emphasis. "I need to know if you trust me, _completely_." He could hear her heart speed up a bit—no surprise, since the fun and games was completely gone from his expression, and this was hardly the kind of prelude one would expect to a graduation gift, even from him.

"I do," she stated simply, after considering for a moment to make sure the words were true. Klaus swallowed. This was either going to be the best thing he could have ever given her, or it was going to backfire in his face.

"Now you're making me curious," she probed, leaning towards him and studying his expression. "What's this mystery gift?"

"Righting a wrong," Klaus responded softly. "Caroline… did you take any vervain today?" Now he heard her swallow.

"No," she admitted after only a brief pause. He smiled reassuringly.

"Do you trust me?" He asked for the third time, eyes holding hers in place. He supposed she could have demanded to know why he wanted to know—and he would've dropped the intrigue and told her, if she had. He'd intended to explain things first, and then get her permission… but he hadn't expected her to trust him right off the bat like she had. He found himself wondering if that trust could extend all the way to the end…

"Yes," she said definitively. Her heart was pounding, but she didn't look away. He let his pupils enlarge, and waited a moment, giving her every opportunity to back out if she wished. Then, he spoke.

"You will never again be vulnerable to compulsion," he said slowly and clearly. "For the rest of your immortal life, your will shall be your own, no matter who tries to take it from you—even if it's me." Then he blinked, severing the connection; the last compulsion connection that any vampire would ever have with her. She blinked as well—it was a reflex, and then her eyes widened as she realized what had just happened.

"You can't be compelled if you've already _been_ compelled," he explained, and she nodded; she'd remembered that one on her own.

"Figured you'd like that more than a boring old graduation check," he added with a smirk.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly. "That really kind of blows the traditional concept of a gift out of the park."

"That was the idea," he said unabashedly.

"Well, now I really don't know what to say!" Caroline exclaimed, and they both laughed. What _could_ she say? He'd just given her the promise of eternity, support for her dreams, safety, home, and freedom. There was nothing she could say, no thank you that would ever really match that.

So, she kissed him instead.

Klaus's arms wound around her, pulling her close, as his lips moved with hers. She had initiated, but he quickly took control, and she let him, leaning even further into him, like she was trying to blur the borderline between their bodies. Their hearts were pounding a frantic duet, and she could feel his pulse thrumming thorough his veins, hot and wild. Although they'd kissed only once before in their own bodies, they fit together like they'd been doing this for lifetimes, like their mouths were shaped to breathe each other in.

Klaus could sense when Caroline's lungs were starting to protest, and he moved his hungry lips to her throat, pressing burning kisses down to her collarbone for the few seconds it took her to catch her breath and pull his head back up so she could reclaim his lips with her own.

They kissed for several long, heavenly minutes before he felt her begin to slow, to come back to her senses and realize where this inevitably led. Before she could make a decision, Klaus pulled away, but only a few inches, and he rested his forehead against hers.

"I—" she started, but he cut her off.

"Caroline," he said softly, and somehow her name sounded so much more musical, uttered on lips that had just tasted her own. "I love you. And I know—I _know_ that I can't push you. But," he finished, looking straight into her eyes, "When you are ready, know this: I intend to be your last love, however long it takes." The moment of awkwardness and fear had evaporated from her eyes, and they were shining up at him again, reflecting, no doubt, the warm glow in his own.

"What a sweet sentiment," a gravely man's voice observed dryly from the doorway.

The two vampires on the bed froze, and although Klaus knew the voice well, he still had to turn his head, had to look over and confirm with his own eyes that this sudden nightmare was really occurring.

"Mikael," he growled, hands instinctively wrapping into fists.

"Hello, Niklaus," Mikael greeted him in a cold snap.


	26. Dead or Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a word in this chapter denoted with a single pair of *asterisks.* That word appears to be misspelled, but it is in fact a Norwegian word that means basically the same thing as the word you'd think it was supposed to be. It was unfortunate that the English and Norwegian root words were so similar in that case… Oh well.

Waking up in the back of a moving vehicle wasn't an unusual experience for the average 21st Century adult, but it threw Silas off considerably. He lay still, letting his senses explore his surroundings warily, although the way his stomach sloshed from the movement and engine rumble was sickening and distracted him quite a bit. The material beneath his shoulder was scratchy, and there was a hard plastic track digging into his hip. He smelled vampires and shoe-leather and he wasn't even sure what else. It wasn't until he carefully dipped into the minds of the two people arguing over the music in the front of the vehicle that he was able to put his senses together with their knowledge of automobiles and figure out what was going on.

He was stark naked, and curled up in the fetal position with his face covered, but for all his discomfort, he still felt wondrously soothed, in comparison to the last sensation he remembered. He'd come around just in time to hear that blonde bitch pull out the pin in the little explosive device, and then…

He rummaged through the minds of the two vampires in the front of the car, making absolutely sure that Caroline Forbes and Elena Gilbert weren't anywhere in the vicinity, and that there were no odd compulsion-voids in either Stefan's or Lexi's minds. Then, once he'd verified their identities and assured himself of his safety, he sat up, and climbed into the back seat, preventing either of his kidnappers from noticing his movement. He knew he could just make them stop and let him out here—and give him Stefan's clothes—but if Stefan awoke naked and far from home, or went inexplicably missing, then Silas's enemies would know he was awake and on the loose. Much better, he thought, to wait until they took him to the quarry, Lexi vanished, and he could simply dispose of Stefan and take his place.

After that… He rubbed his fingers across his jaw thoughtfully. He'd get revenge, of course. All three girls had to suffer. Caroline, for being the master-mind, Elena, for being the puppet, and Bonnie, although he supposed he should be grateful to her. In her overconfidence, she'd used Expression to bind the spell she'd placed on him to keep him asleep. However, since Expression was the will of the human heart, and she'd immediately sacrificed her own life to accomplish something she cared deeply about, when she'd died, the power of the spell she'd placed on him had leeched away to fuel the spell she'd been attempting. He wondered vaguely if whatever she'd been trying to do had worked. It didn't really matter, he supposed.

But, before he could work on revenge, he needed to get stronger. He'd honed his mental powers to perfection, but his lack of world experience was a serious weakness, and Forbes had exploited it mercilessly. He needed some time around living, breathing humans, to practice interaction and manipulation, and to learn how to fight.

Luckily for him, he realized as Lexi unintentionally said something that made Stefan think of it, Stefan was already planning on leaving town.

' _Lucky me, that you didn't get the girl_ ,' Silas thought, with a trace of sympathy for his doppelganger, in spite of himself.

Now all he had to do was wait.

-0-

"After wasting a thousand years hunting me unsuccessfully, you really have _nothing_ better to do with your one day back on earth than come after me again?" Klaus drawled. His eyes were cold and steely, and his jaw was tight with anger, but inside, he was trembling. Adrenaline and survival instincts combined couldn't quite stop the weakness in his knees, trained into him by centuries of pain and fear and torment. And to make matters worse, Caroline stood about six inches behind him. Mikael may not have had the White Oak stake, since Klaus had hidden it at Rebekah's without her knowledge, but Caroline was vulnerable to such accessible items as chair legs, railing bars and her mother's store of wooden buckshot.

"You can't even kill me, father," he taunted. "This really is an impressively boring exercise in futility."

Rather than rise to his baiting, Mikael feinted with a swing of his right hand, and then with a sweep of his foot came very close to taking Klaus's legs out from under him. Klaus stepped quickly back, evading the sweep, but he couldn't turn as fluidly as he wanted too in this cramped space, with Caroline so close behind him.

Perceiving his difficulty, Caroline leapt back onto the bed and then to the floor behind it, and as soon as Klaus felt he presence clear, he rammed his knee into Mikael's gut, flinging him into the space Caroline had occupied a second ago. The wind exited Mikael's lungs in a satisfying whoosh, but at the exact moment that Klaus relaxed to set his foot back on the ground, his step-father's elbow connected with his own solar plexus. A move like that wouldn't keep the Original down any longer than it had distracted his opponent, but a half second was all Mikael needed. In an almost invisible blur of motion, he was standing behind Caroline, twisting one of her arms behind her back to lock up her joints, and pressing a stake to her heart.

Everything froze.

"You're right, Niklaus," Mikael agreed casually, finally responding to Klaus's statements. "I can't kill you.

But I can hurt you."

-0-

"Terry called me back," Rebekah announced, walking down the short hallway to stand in the door to Matt's bathroom. He was leaning against the vanity, staring in a mixture of fascination and horror at the black veins blooming out from his eyes and spreading down his cheekbones. He looked at Rebekah's reflection in the mirror with the expression a child might make if they were hanging off a cliff and looking up at the one person who could save them.

"She's agreed to make you a daylight ring," Rebekah continued, more quietly, reaching around Matt and grabbing the empty blood bag he'd tossed into the sink when he finished it. "She's meeting us at my place." As she continued speaking and acting as normally as possible, Matt's veins slowly shrank and lightened back to normal, and his fangs, which had forced his mouth to hang uncomfortably open, retracted back into his gum line.

"Okay," he said, clearly making an effort to speak normally and not completely lose his head. "Thank you."

"Of course," Rebekah whispered as Matt grabbed his jacket—which he had shed when he careened into the bathroom to see what his face was doing when he'd started drinking blood—and pulled it back on. Then he grimaced, shifting his shoulders and trying futilely to get comfortable. Feeling temperature was extremely weird, for a new vampire. Rebekah knew what he must be experiencing; he could sense heat and cold, but somehow, the discomfort he was used to associating with cold never came, and the relief that usually accompanied heat was also gone. The habits that used to bring him comfort were now just empty actions, but his mind still told him to try them.

"It's damn convenient, in the winter time," Rebekah observed casually, and Matt raised an eyebrow. "Not getting cold," she clarified. "You still have to wear a jacket, to keep up appearances, but all the bulky layers that used to keep you practically immobile are completely unnecessary."

"Yeah," Matt agreed listlessly, ditching his jacket again on the back of a kitchen chair and stuffing his feet into his shoes. "Sounds nice." They walked out into the yard, and Rebekah clicked the lock on her white Audi convertible.

"We should pick up your truck on the way back," she reminded him as they got into the car and she started it up. "It's still at the Grill."

"Oh, yeah," Matt said again, but with more feeling this time, and Rebekah hid her little smile by turning to look behind her while she backed out of his driveway. Step one of assimilating a new vampire: remind him of his human life so he doesn't have a chance to lose himself. Step two would have to wait for a little while. Showing Matt how awesome life could be as a member of the undead was best attempted somewhere other than Mystic Council-Peering-over-your-Shoulder, Vervain-in-the-Water-Supply Falls…

The drive to Rebekah's house was a short one, made shorter by the speed of her car. She watched Matt out of the corner of her eye, but she needn't have worried. He was fascinated by the smell and feel of the leather seats, the design of the dashboard… It seemed that he was coping with his heightened emotions by more fully appreciating little things he loved—like cars. It was a bandage, not a cure, but it would do for the present.

The two vampires got out of the car, and Matt ducked in front of Rebekah so he could open the door.

"Glad to see chivalry isn't quite dead," she said with a warm smile, and Matt rolled his eyes a little at the word choice as he pulled the door open.

"You leave it unlocked?" He asked, just as Finn Mikaelson stepped out, broke his sister's neck, and wheeled on Matt.

"Not quite," he snarled.

-0-

"What's the matter, boy?" Mikael spat, reveling in having regained the upper hand. "No hybrid freaks to hide behind this time? Bad enough you were bringing such monstrosities into the world to begin with, but now you've gone completely soft over this one pathetic little monster." He punctuated the last insult with a wrench of Caroline's arm. She snarled more in rage than in pain. The guy clearly hadn't wasted his time on the Other Side—he was literally using her own moves against her.

She watched Klaus from beneath her eyelashes, careful not to make eye-contact. She'd seen enough movies and heard people pull the trick in real life often enough to know that the most logical next step to keep her alive would be for Klaus to somehow pretend he didn't give a damn about her, that he only wanted her for sex, or blood, or whatever he came up with on the fly. However, she also knew that the Original had a tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve, particularly when it came to her—and she didn't want to make things any harder than they had to be.

They only had to keep Mikael from doing any permanent damage until the moon reached its zenith. Then he'd go back to the Other Side with all the other ghosts, and they could put this whole horrible thing behind the—hopefully forever this time.

"Wolf got your tongue, little bastard?" Mikael demanded savagely. The stake pressed into Caroline's chest, spilling a drop of her blood onto her graduation dress.

"Why?" Klaus whispered finally. That was unexpected. Caroline couldn't read his expression, although she could see the pain in his eyes. She felt Mikael shift, likely an outworking of an expression of confusion.

"You haven't changed, Mikael, he clarified. "Not since you've been dead, not since you turned… From the time I was a young child, you have hated me from the core of your being, even before you learned of mother's betrayal. Now, returned from the dead for one precious day back on earth, and you're going to spend it depriving me of the one thing I love most in this world." His voice was low and heavy with sorrow, and Caroline's heart had started to pound. Apparently, he wasn't going to try and bluff at all. But what was he doing? They had plenty of time until the moon rose completely—he couldn't possibly keep him talking that long.

"So, tell me why," he demanded, the pain in his voice slowly morphing into the more familiar hostility. "You owe me that much, *pappa*."

-0-

Freya's heart sank right down into her bare toes, and her shoulders sank a little. She held a large shard of broken glass, which she'd been using to scry her siblings' activities for the evening. But, before she could sink too deeply into the emotional mire she'd created, some faster, harsher movements on another facet of the glass caught her eye.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Freya hissed as she watched Finn attack Rebekah's new vampire. Was is really impossible for her family to be in the same place at the same time and not try to slaughter one another, and everyone else in the general vicinity? She glanced around at the seemingly empty forest around her, trying to decide on the spur of the moment if she could safely leave the site of the witch massacre without her spell weakening too much.

When she saw the glimmer of silver-coated wood in her oldest brother's hand, she knew she had to risk it.

-0-

Matt Donovan had been a vampire for all of two hours, but he was accustomed enough to his heightened senses that he didn't marvel at the way he could see every shifting crease in Finn's clothing as the Original fluidly reached behind his back and pulled the White Oak stake out of his pocket. With reflexes born of desperation and many, many years of football, Matt barreled into him from the side, and for a tense moment, they grappled for the lethal shard of wood.

Unfortunately, Finn still had a thousand years of strength and agility on him, and with a powerful twist of his hips, the older vampire wrestled the younger into the pavement, and triumphantly raised the stake over his heart.

"You first, murderer," he hissed.

A loud snapping sound, like a pair of hands clapping once, reverberated through the air, and Finn's wrist twisted suddenly, forcing him to release the stake. It clattered to the ground, and when he dove to retrieve it, Matt planted his fist solidly into the older vampire's nose, using his opponent's compromised balance to fling him a few feet to the left, off of Matt's chest and away from the weapon.

Immediately, Matt whirled to grab the stake himself, but found himself face to face with a young girl, hardly more than ten or eleven. She was holding the stake in one pale hand, but Matt could see right through her fingers, and if he looked carefully, the lawn and driveway behind her were visible as well. He hear Finn behind him, scrambling to his feet, but when he looked over his shoulder, the Original had, apparently, forgotten that he even existed. Finn was entirely engrossed in staring in blank shock at the little translucent girl.

"Freya?" he addressed her in a tremulous whisper.

"Hello, brother," she responded, in a low, sad treble voice, that sounded centuries too old for her. With another clap of her hands, Finn fell senseless to the ground.

"We'll have time to talk later," she murmured.

-0-

' _Fools, the both of them,_ ' Esther thought as she slipped in through the gaps left in her daughter's barrier, and glanced into the piece of glass which still showed the locations of the rest of her family. Mikael, confronting Niklaus, Finn, trying to avenge his own death, each believing they had only until the moon reached its zenith to accomplish their goals. She supposed she should just be glad that they were busy making fools of themselves, since it distracted Freya thoroughly, and allowed her to find a chink in the barrier. But how could they believe it would work? Head-on attacks would never be effective for something like this—Mikael had had a thousand years to realize that, and it still hadn't sunk in.

The task of ridding the world of the abomination she had created required… subtlety. Sensitive of her time-limit, the Original Witch cast a glamor over herself, and turned her steps towards town.

-0-

That wasn't what Mikael had expected at all. Rage, aggression, fear, those emotions would all make sense in this situation, and were the sort of thing he expected out of the boy. But… pain over literally ancient family issues? And… calling him "dad" like he had when he was little? And with those eyes… What—

He saw the glint of metal too late to curb his natural reaction, which was to block with his weapon hand. The heavy gold pen clattered against the wall at the same time that Klaus flashed instantly to his shoulder, standing between the now upraised stake and his lover. The two men grappled for a moment, and Mikael drove the stake into Klaus's shoulder, eliciting a roar of pain and rage, but between the hybrid and the vampire girl, they wrenched Mikael's other arm off of her wrist. The girl—Caroline, he was fairly sure—took several vampire-speed steps back, and Klaus backed up a pace as well, keeping himself solidly between his stepfather and the younger vampire.

"Caroline, get out of here," Klaus commanded tightly, shifting slightly into a more combative stance.

"She won't get far," Mikael hissed, and a slightly feral grin stretched across his normally stoic mouth as the sound of footsteps moving at vampire speed on the lower level of the house became audible to all three of them. Finally, Finn had located the stake. "You die tonight, abomination," he continued, quickly positioning himself between them and the door, "and your cursed bloodline with you.

"You want to know why I hunt you?" He snarled, flexing his fingers around the ordinary stake now coated in Klaus's blood. "You want to know why I would gladly sacrifice every last second of my immortal life to take you down? It's because your kind are a stain upon the earth. Like a raw, festering wound that never heals. And yet, look at yourselves. Look at how you act. You revel in your debauchery, you celebrate your monstrosity.

 _I am going to wipe every last one of you off the face of the earth!_ "

There was an odd, ringing silence as his last shout hung in the air.

Then, there was a loud, compound click.

And a shotgun blast blew Mikael right off his feet, sending countless shards of wood through his body.

"Not on my watch, you won't," Liz Forbes growled. Mikael grunted and started to roll over and regain his footing, but the younger ghost took two steps forward, chambering another round, and blasted it right into his heart, knocking him out for the count.

-0-

Thanks to all the confusing weather, and the dead guy who'd tried to blow the place to smithereens that afternoon, the Grill was deserted that evening as Esther strode purposefully past it, crossing the town square, and heading for a row of little shops—all of which were closed up and dark at this time of night. It was no matter. The thing she was after was already hers.

Grief wrenched at her heartstrings at the thought.

She allowed herself three seconds to breathe more steadily. Then, she carried on to her destination, and began to chant.

-0-

"This calls for champagne," Caroline announced as Klaus pulled into the driveway and he, she and her resurrected mother got out of the car.

"I guess I lose coolness points if I remind you you're still underage," Liz quipped as they walked up to the porch, arm in arm.

"Yes," Caroline assured her mock-seriously. "But you gained so many by Sheriff-blasting Mikael like that, I doubt anyone would notice the loss." She opened the door and stepped inside.

"Elizabeth Forbes, please come in," she said formally, and Liz frowned in slight confusion as she crossed the threshold.

"I think I missed a page in the vampire handbook. Vampires inviting other vampires into a home?"

"One of my witches spelled the house for security," Klaus explained as he followed them in, closing the door behind him. "Everyone has to be invited in by name by either Caroline or myself."

"So, you Silas-proofed it?" Liz guessed, and Klaus nodded.

"That was the idea."

"We must toast. I'll be right back," Caroline said, and headed for the wine-cellar. Liz rolled her eyes and shook her head long-sufferingly, but made no comment.

For a few seconds, the two vampires stood in the living room, listening to Caroline quickly go through Klaus's liquor collection. Then, Liz spoke again.

"As you know, my ex-husband passed away a while ago." Klaus nodded. "So, Caroline doesn't have a father around to do this."

"Do what?" he asked, although he had a pretty good educated guess about what particular tradition she was about to reference. Sure enough, using her vampire-speed, she stepped right in front of him, and pointed directly to his face with her shotgun, although she wasn't holding it in a position to fire. It was only a gesture.

"Let's get one thing straight. If you hurt one hair on my daughter's head, so help me God, I will personally haunt you to the ends of the earth and drag your sorry hybrid ass into the innermost circle of hell. Do. You. Hear. Me."

Klaus could've easily batted the gun away, or made some snarky comment, or employed one of two-dozen other methods of brushing this off. The woman was no threat to him—they both knew that.

But, he didn't. Instead, he looked her straight in the eyes, sincerity radiating from his own.

"I won't allow any harm to befall her," he said in a soft voice. "You have my word."

"Good," Liz responded, setting the shotgun down on Klaus's coffee table and sitting down on the couch.

Caroline returned a few moment later, but Klaus excused himself, saying that he needed to call Rebekah and warn her that Mikael was tied up and unconscious in the Forbes house, and Finn still unaccounted for. Really, he needn't have bothered; by the time Mikael could come around and work himself free of the bonds, the moon would be up, and he'd be back on the Other Side, along with Finn, who Rebekah could easily take on. But, he knew that this moment between Caroline and her mother was sacred, and he wanted to leave them alone without seeming like that was what he was doing.

To his surprise, is was Matt who answered Rebekah's phone.

"You are never going to believe everything that just happened," the quarterback assured him in a voice that was half exhausted, half awed.

-0-

Alaric's eyes were fixed on the window—and the moon rising higher and higher in the sky beyond it—as Damon entered the room. Without preamble or asking if he wanted one, the older vampire poured two glasses of his favorite bourbon out of a decanter.

"Moon's nearly up," Alaric observed.

"Yeah," Damon responded shortly. Clearly, he didn't want to focus on the dwindling time.

"Where's Elena?" Alaric asked, with a hint of a smirk.

"She's trying to find Bonnie and Jeremy," Damon responded, setting the stopper back in the neck of the bottle. Silence reigned for a moment, and then he looked up to find Alaric full-on grinning at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You got the girl, man," Alaric said.

"I got the girl," Damon echoed, happiness and disbelief mingling in his tone as he said it aloud for the first time.

"Now, don't screw it up, Alaric warned him flatly. Damon rolled his eyes and looked down as he picked up the glasses.

"Well, with you looking over my shoulder, how can I?" he asked playfully, looking back up as he held out one of the drinks.

An empty room greeted him.

With an inaudible sigh, he toasted the blank air, and took a sip of the bourbon.

-0-

"I want you to know that I am prouder of you than I ever in my wildest dreams hoped I'd ever be of anything," Liz said, her hands pressed firmly into her daughter's shoulders. "No matter what kind of storms life throws your way, you're always…" she choked up for a moment, and wiped a tear off of Caroline's cheek, "dancing in the rain, sweetie."

"I love you, mommy," Caroline choked out, and fell into her mother's arms. The bottle of champagne she'd fetched sat unopened on the table. There had suddenly been too much to say for her to waste another second getting a corkscrew. They'd only had about an hour from the time they'd arrived at the house to the time the moon was supposed to reach its highest point.

An hour was not nearly enough time for a last conversation with a lost loved one.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I could've brought you back if—"

"Don't even think that," Liz cut her off. "You knew how I'd feel if my life came at the cost of you making a deal like that with Silas. You did the exact right thing, Care."

-0-

"New York?" Lexi suggested as the fiddled with Stefan's limited music choices.

"Too close," he reasoned.

"Vegas!" she exclaimed in excitement.

"Ugh, no," Stefan moaned. "Too touristy."

"Look," Lexi started, "I know you think I'm joking, but you _are_ leaving. You just graduated for the millionth time. It's time to start living _your_ life." Stefan kept his eyes on the road for a long moment, and then finally spoke in a quiet, weary voice.

"What if Elena was... the one?"

"She was," Lexi agreed softly. Stefan turned to look at her, surprised. "And she will always be an epic love," his friend continued. "Contrary to popular belief, there are actually multiple ones – especially for a vampire. The only way to find another is to let go, and move on."

Stefan turned back to the road again, thinking about that.

"I've never been to Portland," he admitted finally, and glanced to the side for her reaction.

The passenger's seat was empty.

"See ya', Lexi," he murmured.

-0-

Klaus was doing his best not to eavesdrop, but he felt a subtle change in the air, and heard a quietness—it was the absence of sound that came from one less heart beating inside the house, one less pair of lungs breathing. He heard Caroline inhale and exhale deeply twice, barely suppressing a sob each time.

For a moment, he was torn. Although she was clearly in need of comfort, he wondered if he should give her a minute to herself. However, that feeling lasted only a moment, because it was replaced by a wave of vertigo, and a strange tipping sensation, propelling him in the direction of the living room.

Afterward, although he admitted it to no one, he always held the suspicion that Liz Forbes's ghost had punched him in the head.

Silently, he reentered the living room, and sat down beside Caroline, who immediately wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

-0-

Neither of them knew that at almost that exact moment, as ghosts all over Mystic Falls vanished, Jeremy Gilbert, solid and warm as life, exclaimed, "Wait, you mean I'm alive?"

Bonnie nodded, tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

So, it was done.

-0-

Stefan opened up the back hatch of the SUV, and stared in confusion at the empty floor before him. It couldn't be. Silas was locked in an eternal sleep—he couldn't possibly have—

"Don't bother," a familiar voice chided. "I'm not there."

Stefan turned to stare into the deadpan eyes of Not-Elena.

"Silas," he breathed. "But how—the spell worked."

"That's the funny thing about spells," Not-Elena narrated conversationally. "They're bound by Nature. Nature demands balance, so every spell has a loophole. The spell that rendered me asleep for all of eternity was bound by a witch – a living witch. So when that witch died before the Expression solidified, the spell broke."

"Bonnie?" Stefan said in confusion. "Bonnie's not dead…"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Not-Elena sighed. "And here's where the mystery of me comes full circle. I created the immortality spell two thousand years ago. I can never die, so Nature needed to find a balance – a version of me that _could_ die. A shadow-self – a doppelgänger."

"So, this is finally your real face?" Stefan guessed. "You're another one of them?"

"Not exactly," his own voice murmured back.

It was eerie, looking at another him, but not a reflection in the mirror; a living, breathing person, who could move on his own, have facial expressions other than his own… His stomach sloshed uncomfortably as Silas took a step towards him.

"Hello, my shadow-self," Silas greeted his doppelganger before stabbing him in the gut with a stake.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to starve for two thousand years?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

Stefan groaned in pain and fell to his knees as Silas released him and withdrew the stake. While Stefan struggled to get back on his feet, Silas withdrew the massive safe from the back of the SUV and opened it. By the time Stefan had his balance back, Silas was on him again, flinging him roughly into the heavy metal box and shutting the lid.

Stefan felt gravity shift as the safe was tossed over the side of the quarry.

-0-

At first, when Connor and Vaughn disappeared, Alexander didn't think anything was amiss. But after a few seconds of waiting and looking up at the moon expectantly, he frowned in confusion. Shouldn't he be able to see them, since they were all on the Other Side now, with the veil back up?

"Well, that worked better than expected," a female voice observed coolly. The Hunter's head whipped around, and he found himself face to face with a beautiful dark-skinned woman whose face he'd seen once before.

"I did a spell so that the fancy ring will work on supernaturals," she explained as she stepped closer. "I need your help, Alexander."

"For what?" he asked quietly, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"To fulfill your destiny," the witch responded with a little triumphant smile.

-0-

"Did you tell her?"

Liz's eyes slanted down to look at Freya, who had walked along at her elbow for some time as they made their way out of Mystic Falls and back towards Freya's own little corner of the Other Side.

"No," she admitted. The little witch was silent, but Liz could hear the unspoken question.

"I've given it a lot of thought," she continued, "and really, she doesn't need to know. Because of the way things turned out, it will never be a part of her reality. There's no point in upsetting everyone over it now."

Freya gave her a thoughtful look, but still said nothing. It wasn't her place to interfere on this one, and besides, it was already too late. That door had shut when the veil reformed.

All she could do now was carry on with her own stuff and hope that Liz was right, for many people's sakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! We've completed the first season of Red Queen! We've followed the show storyline, but there are a few vastly different things we've got going on as we move into Season II: Roux Reine*. For one thing, Caroline's family history is a little more complex and magical than we ever realized. For another, Matt's a vampire! Yikes! Also, there's Freya to consider, and Sophie. Witches and their complicated stuff, you know what I mean? Who's growing what, who's watching over who, and who's really on which side…? And Alexander's back with some degree of permanence, so Quetsiya's got a henchman. That might just be a problem. Or a solution. Depending on my mood. (Line shamelessly ripped off from Elijah.)
> 
> Then, of course, there's the Klaroline—in essence, the whole point of all of this stuff! They're basically a couple, but she's still got a little bit of a block going on because of all the emotionally-charged crap in her life. Not to worry, that will be remedied in Season II—Caroline isn't really one to let tragedy get in the way of stuff like that for long… :-)
> 
> *"Beth, are you trying to say Red Queen in French? Because that is NOT how you say Red Queen in French." Yes, I do know that - I actually took French as my spoken language in college. But titles are not sentences, and carry different grammar rules (basically "do what you want, but for Cthulhu's sake capitalize the first, last and important words!") and I like this version better for a title of my English-language work, so I'm keeping it that way.
> 
> As I post this, Season II is currently available on Fanfiction in its entirety if you want to read it before I get around to moving it here to AO3!


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